


Iacon

by Arazamatazza



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Ending, Decepticons Win AU, Forced auto-Cannibalism, Gore, Mental Breakage, Mix-mash of continuities, OOC, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, all hurt and no comfort, purging/throwing up, seriously guys its the DJD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arazamatazza/pseuds/Arazamatazza
Summary: The Decepticons win the war and things go about as well as to be expected. Ratchet is one of the few surviving Autobots from Earth and is penned up in Swindle's auction house, waiting to be sold. When he's purchased by the infamous DJD though his life goes from bad to worse- and thats before he fully realizes their true intentions with him. The question isn't whether he can survive- its whether he can do so with his sense of self intact





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right guys, so I have the bad habit of self-depreciating so I'm actually not going to say much here except the basics you need to know: this story is based heavily upon an old, unfinished RP I had going. I have already significantly altered portions of the story, but a lot of the dialogue and such of earlier chapters come from that. I already have about 1/4 of the roleplay portion edited into fanfic form and I already know how I want it to end. Just have to get there first. The first 7-8 chapters are kinda slow going before things pick up.
> 
> Also, this story will NOT be edited in terms of proof-reading due to aforementioned self-doubt. I'd probably scrap the whole project re-reading what I have done. So sorry for grammer or spelling issues- though if you do notice any glaringly obvious continuity errors tell me!!
> 
> Otherwise, hope you enjoy ; P

It could have been months, maybe even years. Ratchet couldn’t tell anymore- his chronometer had been offlined, amongst other things, the first day he had been captured. And originally he had been too shell-shocked, too caught up in his own helm, to really even notice when the other Autobots had started being filed into the cells. 

Well, to say he hadn’t noticed at all would have been lie. He saw them being brought in. Most he didn’t even know though. As one of the last surviving Autobots from Earth that meant the later prisoners were drifters- bots who had lost contact with the main army or who had been posted in other sectors. Some were just as disoriented as he was. Others glanced over and their optics locked. He saw fear. Shock. Pain. The only time Ratchet felt anything was when he saw that last one. His medical coding would surge to life and he could feel his digits twitch with the urge to get up, to _help_. 

But what was the point? They had _lost_. 

Optimus was dead and no last second miracle, no twist of fate or ancient relic was going to bring him back. Being vaporized into dust tended to do that. 

Ratchet shuttered his optics and curled into a tighter ball on the rock hard cot he called his own. For a war that had raged on for four million years, it had ended absurdly quickly. Even after all this time it still hurt him to think about-

He hadn’t been there when it happened. The Decepticons had already retreated from New York after Megatron’s near fatal wound so Ratchet had worked to move and treat their wounded. Of _course_ Optimus refused care until everyone else had been seen to first even though he was the most heavily wounded. So Omega Supreme helped him load Jazz, Bumblebee, and Roadbuster inside him.

That was when Skywarp had shown up with some sort of experimental bomb the Decepticons had been developing. Most likely meant to be used as a last resort to decimate human populations, but Starscream had ordered it to be dropped right then. Optimus. Ironhide. Prowl. Hound. Cliffjumper. Kup. Drift. Everyone else from the battle. All dead, just like that. Them and everyone else inside New York City and possibly even surrounding areas. The only reason he had lived because he’d been inside Omega Supreme- the ancient Guardian hadn’t been so lucky. He’d stumbled outside what remained of Omega’s frame to witness a sea of black, the earth ash and the sky filled with soot. Despite the evidence before his optics he had desperately plunged out of Omega’s husk to sift through the ashes. That was how the Decepticons had found him.

He didn’t even really remember much about his capture. He had been so focused, so _deluded_ in his hope of finding a survivor that when they came for him, he broke, and now he was filled with shame at his utter lack of fight. Two Decepticons had gripped him under the arms, halting his frantic search, and he’d just…slumped in their arms and allowed them to carry him off. Everything after that was a blur. The transport. His medical examination. Being tossed in the cell. At some point he was aware that he was taken from Earth, but…It only came to him some time later that he’d left his injured friends inside of Omega’s shell. 

He never did see Jazz, Bee, or Roadbuster again. If they had been captured or killed, he didn’t know. His early attempts to gain any information were met with violence. _Eventually_ , his cracked cheek strut and broken nose had been repaired since ‘damaged Autobots sell for less!’ Swindle had hollered at one of his lackeys. There were ways to hurt mechs without visible damage, though. And a few scuff marks were easier to hide than broken struts or exterior wounds. If they were fuelled properly he would have certainly heaved just thinking about.

Of course, desperate mechs in desperate times, led to even more desperate actions. After the ump-tenth suicide, Swindle had consulted with Bombshell to come up with a remedy. Subconsciously, Ratchet reached up to scratch at the back of his helm. The metal there was smooth; you could never tell it had been cracked open or that there was a chip now imbedded in all the prisoners, preventing them from taking the ‘easy’ way out. 

Even though he had been one of the first captured, he was one of the last remaining in the cells. Over time, the cells around him had gone from being filled up to being emptied out. Strings of Autobots were chained together and marched out of the prison, never to be seen or heard from again. Every time he had desperately searched the Autobots faces, both hoping and dreading to see his friend’s faces. He never did, though. 

***

“Oi, Autobot. Get up.” 

Ratchet slowly turned his helm towards the bars. Once vibrant blue optics were barely lit, but he still managed a glower at the tank mech. Three other Autobots were chained up behind the mech. The Decepticon unlocked Ratchet’s cell and entered, a pair of magnacuffs clutched in his hefty servos. He was too physically exhausted to fight. He could barely walk, for Primus sake! Besides, why bother? On top of the suicide chips, every prisoner was outfitted with shock collars to prevent attacks on guards. Even just the thought of violence sent a jolt of agony down their spinal struts. They couldn’t fight. Couldn’t kill themselves. It was an endless cycle of either agony or apathy. 

Didn’t stop him from growling at the mech as he was approached though. He couldn’t physically fight, but he made his displeasure with the tank and his progenitors well known and painted in vivid detail. 

"Heheh, still got some spirit left in you eh?" The mech had laughed and slapped Ratchet's aft before hauling him up off the berth by the scruff bar and cuffing him.

A bit of chain was looped around the bar that connected the cuffs. The other end of the chain was attached to the back of another Autobots collar. The ‘Con gave a harsh tug on the lead slaves chain, prompting the entire string of Autobots to lurch forward on unsteady pedes. 

They were taken to a large washrack and blasted with pressure hoses to get at the caked in grime stuck on their plating and between seams. Then they were given a quick polish- claws lingered on intimate plating- but they were on a tight schedule. Couldn’t soil the goods just before selling them! There wouldn’t be enough time to clean them up again. 

Their servos, at least, had been cuffed in front of them. So they were spared the indignity of needing to rely on the guards to feed them. It did nothing to disguise their symptoms of malnourishment- but at least they’d be able to walk to the auction without tripping all over themselves! Oh, goody. Ratchet couldn’t help but scoff. Why bother trying to pretty them up anyway? As if their new owners were going to keep them in such ‘pristine’ condition for long.

***

It seems there would always be a need to weed out corruption among the Decepticons. Even with the war over, the DJD did not really feel the difference; their work was still needed. There were still names on the list from before the war had ended. And a few more had already been added. Apparently not everyone agreed with the way Megatron was handling the Autobots. Granted, Starscream was the one who enacted the slavery laws while Megatron had still been recovering. But that was a year and a half ago and the only change Megatron had made was to order all medical and science oriented slaves to be delivered to Shockwave’s compound. 

The news of the wars end had come to them rather late though. The Peaceful Tyranny was often found in the deepest recesses of space to hunt down cowards who thought distance would be enough of a deterrent to avoid the DJD. So they had only just returned to Cybertron, and had played catch-up on the trip back. Starscream hated- or rather, feared the DJD- and for good reason. So their summons back to Cybertron had been rather…delayed, until their master had made a full recovery. 

While Tarn, Helex and Tesarus spoke to Megatron privately Vos and Kaon split off to explore. Perhaps not the wisest course of action, allowing the two most unstable members to run loose amidst the populace. And as always, Kaon’s opticless face drew quite a few odd looks. Not that he could see anyones expressions, of course, but that didn’t mean he was sightless. Kaon was a tracker of the DJD and considering he could pinpoint Overlord solar systems away? He was a slagging skilled one. Capable of sensing each and every unique spark signature of a mech, he could also ‘see’ the pulses of electricity that coursed through their frames, giving him a general sense of their height and movement. So he still managed to get great satisfaction from watching mechs scurry away in panic the moment the two of them were recognized. 

Oh, in such a largely populated city as Iacon, the Decepticon’s that were there were smart enough not to outwardly show their fear. Not that it mattered with Kaon around; but bots did move out of their way as they walked and some were quick to duck into nearby buildings. Kaon cackled to himself. If the Pet were with him he was sure the reactions would be even better!

“Oooh, Vos- whats that over there?” He pointed towards an area where he saw a large mass of bots gathered- their positions were staggered and seated, “Some kind of show?”

Just because he could locate bots didn’t mean squat when it came to seeing buildings or other non-living hazards. So he relied on his brothers, and occasionally the Pet, to steer him through crowds. Vos glanced over towards where Kaon was pointing. ~Hm…no. The sign says it is an auction house. Run by Swindle~ He tch’d, and rolled his optics. Swindle running an auction. Big surprise there. Given what they new about Cybertron’s current situation he could certainly guess what the goods were.

“Swindle running an auction – _never_ saw that coming,” Kaon sneered as he shook his helm, amused, “so the products..."

“Yesss...” Vos hissed, his vocalizer rasping through the Neocybex. To which Kaon looked even more excited. Before Vos could object in any way, the other grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. How Kaon managed to find the door without Vos’ input he wasn’t sure, but he made his displeasure with the mech handling known by a quick swipe of claws against the offending servo.

“Ow! Fragger! I just want to have a little _fun_ ,” he pouted. The two of them had arrived a little late and had already missed the first round of sales. Though they did come just in time for the next. The red Decepticon could sense the lineup of Autobots before they were brought to the front stage. Able to sense their sparks and use electro pulses to size them up. 

Vos watched silently as the products were brought out in a line. A part of him felt cold; he had been a pleasure bot before Megatron ‘saved’ him. It brought back bitter, terrible memories that helped fuel his desire to spill energon. However any ' soft part of him had long since been hardened and sharpened - honed into one of Megatron’s best killing machines. So he stared seemingly unfazed as he studied all of them before Swindle began to speak.

Ratchet grit his denta. Or at least, he would have if not for the gag currently shoved in his mouth. Even though the tank had laughed at his fiery personality, Swindle knew it could cause trouble at the auction. Anybot who bought him would know right off he was a troublemaker because of it, but at least his mouth wouldnt interrupt the sales.

“Let’s start the auction tonight with this old clunker right here! He might not be much to look at,” Ratchet growled behind his gag and glared daggers at the conmech, “But he’s a fully trained medic from Iacon Academy!” Ratchet couldn’t believe this. Well, no, he could. He’d been a prisoner for long enough, but it still boggled his processor at how…stupid and pointless this all was. He’d had a capture bounty on him for so long because he was one of the few known living, fully trained medics alive and instead of, well, forcing him to teach or become a con medic they were wasting his talents to be a slave? It was completely stupid; why even bother with the bounty then? “So he’d no doubt be good for someone looking for kids-” EXCUSE HIM?! “-or to sparkling sit. But if thats not your cup of energon, well- he’s still got some spunk left to break him out of!” 

“So- starting bid at 50k credits!”

A medic from the Academy could be very useful. The DJD didn’t get injured a lot, but when they did it was always serious and with Pharma gone they only had Nickel to patch them up. While Nickel was good, she was better with ship maintenance versus playing nurse for all of them. With one idea, more ideas branched and the investment began to grow more and more promising for the Peaceful Tyranny. It seemed Kaon picked up on Vos’ deep thoughts and looked at him curiously with his optic-less sockets. Starting price 50,000 credits...

A few Decepticons made offers for the Iaconian medic before the sniper rifle made his choice; he would purchase this Autobot for the use of the DJD...

Vos made an offer, ~55,000 credits~

The air went stiff a moment as no bot understood what the slag he said. Kaon sighed before pitching in,  
“He said 55,000 credits,” he translated for them.

Ratchet flicked his optics towards Swindle, seeing the surprise on Swindle's face. So he hadnt expected him to sell at all, huh? Primus, now he was really getting insulted. Of course, he didn’t realize that Swindle’s surprise had nothing to do with him. 

Without realizing it, Ratchet’s armor bristled in outrage and he glared daggers out into the crowd. He couldn’t really see anyone through the spotlights glare, but was making his fury known.

“65,000 credits!” A mech who didn’t recognize the DJD members called out.

With the DJD being new on the scene, they had no idea what the average prices for Autobots were - in fact, they could be getting ripped off (and knowing Swindle they were). However, that mattered little for a number of reasons. For one; they had a lot of credits to their name - they were the DJD, the elite force that took down defectors like the pathetic sparklings they were. Even Blackshadow broke down to the torture given by Tarn and his group. Secondly, they could pretty much kill anybot if provoked- a fact that the poor, foolish Decepticon that tried to outbid them soon learned.

Even though Koan couldn’t see it, Vos cut him a knowing look that the optic-less mech still apparently managed to understand anyway as he subtly nodded in return. In one smooth, practiced motion Kaon stood on the chair at the same time Vos leapt up and transformed. Kaon caught up, aimed, and fired- blowing off the head of the Con whom had made the 65,000 bid all while calmly stating with a sadistic smile, “66,000 credits...” he then tilted his helm to direct his ‘gaze’ towards the terrified onlookers, “Anyone tries to outbid us and they'll be _added to the list_.” You know, to dissuade any lingering foolishness. So many of the elite Decepticons had already claimed their war prizes, leaving the common soldiers in the dust. This was likely their only chance of ever getting slaves of their own- until or unless Swindle can find more Autobots it was well known his supply was running low. Hence the unfortunate mechs attempt at unknowingly outbidding the two DJD members.

Of course, not that Ratchet was really bargain-bin material. It was just that, well, Swindle really needed to get rid of him, fast. Before Megatron found out he had been keeping hold of the former Autobot CMO instead of handing him over to Shockwave as soon as that order had been given. Though really, it had just been an oversight! Not that Megatron would see it that way though.

It was just his luck that two members of the fraggin’ _DJD_ came to call for this auction.

And of course, upon hearing those iconic words, Ratchet immediately tensed. No, nonono. He wasn't- he couldn't- He suddenly came alive then and began tugging fruitlessly against the chains holding him.

“O-oh. Vos. Kaon. Ha, I didn’t recognize you at first,” the sleazy conmech rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I guess that concludes this part of the auction then. Bombshock! Give them their new prize.” The tank from earlier didn’t look too pleased to be given the job and slowly lumbered onto the stage to unlock Ratchet from the chain. He would still be cuffed, but he wouldn’t be attached to the other Autobots anymore.

As futile as it was, as soon as he was ‘released’ he turned and tried to make a break for it, but the hulking mech just grabbed him and tossed him over his shoulder. Ratchet growled and struggled, kicking and pushing the mech as he was carried down the steps. Ratchet’s true intent wasn’t to really hurt the tank, his struggle born from pure panic than anything else- it was the only reason he wasn’t immediately shocked by the collar. A few cons chuckled hesitantly at his struggles though the room was still rather tense. The sooner the DJD took their prize and left the sooner they could get back to the final sales.

Bombshock approached the two DJD members and held out a datapad. “Just, ah, transfer over the payment and he’s yours,” he gave slowly.

"Almost didn't recognize us? Oh but Swindle its bad for business to forget a pretty face," Kaon teased while Vos handled the currency transfer, before adding, "specially when they were a big factor in some dealings with you..."

Swindle chuckled nervously, just barely managing to keep from fidgeting due to years of salesmanship. "Right well, with such poor lighting in here-" He shrugged and tossed them a sheepish smile. "But hey, everyone's win-win right?" The DJD members got their slave and Swindle got to keep his limbs just a little while longer. Eventually they would no doubt discover Megatron’s standing orders, but by then he’d have finished selling his leftover slaves and could bunker down in one of his hidey-holes, then come up with a good excuse to keep Megatron from sicking his hunting party after him! 

Once everything was signed and approved Bombshock placed Ratchet down on his pedes. He gave the little Autobot a shove towards his new masters. The tank even almost pitied the poor mech. 

Almost.

Ratchet would be a liar and a fool if he said he wasnt afraid of the two mechs before him, irregardless of the fact that they were so much smaller than him. But he stood tall and proud, glaring defiantly at them both. If it werent for the gag he was still wearing he'd no doubt be spewing vitriol at them too. Despite the cleaning and polish he had received there were still signs of his neglect. His once crimson red plating was a dull, faded coral and despite his defiance his optics were barely lit. Their kind could not become either 'skinny' or 'fat' like organics, but his armor did hang a bit off his frame. And his frame was trembling minutely from more than just fear. Even though they had given them more fuel before the auction, that didn’t make up for however long he'd been under-fed and he was both physically and mentally exhausted already even though barely anything had happened yet. Just standing so long was proving to be a chore.

~A pleasure, as always~ Vos churred sarcastically. Kaon didn’t bother translating this time; instead he bounded forward and grabbed Ratchet’s bound wrists. He relished in the medic’s fear. But that was an instant gratification. The others defiance was where the real fun lay. “Come on then, _Rat_ , I can’t wait to _break_ you in.” 

The two DJD members flanked him and led Ratchet out of the auction house. As his optics adjusted to the sudden brightness of the city’s lights he was tugged along. He didnt put up much of a fight as he followed the two mechs, despite his previous posturing. He knew it was futile and, as pessimistic as he was at the moment, he wasn’t exactly suicidal yet. As if he could do anything about that if he were, anyway…

“All right Vos, so- why did we buy this Autobot again? I mean, you know Tarn is going to be pissed-” Plus, given Vos’ history, he was admittedly a bit shocked that the other was the one to make the initial bid on the Autobot. 

~Nickel is our only medic and she doesn't have the same training as Ratchet,~ the masked mech explained, ~There is also the fact that I need to learn more Neocybex.~

"Huh, so…basically your idea is that you're going to make Ratchet a tutor? You sure you want an Autobot for that?" Kaon sneered, earning himself a sharp glare from the purple mech.

~Ratchet could also be a sparkling sitter for you,~ he said with narrowed optics before looking ahead and adding, ~With enough work, he could be more than just a tutor. He's a medic and if broken into the fold he can work with us.~

As the two spoke, Ratchet did his best not to react. He didn’t want the pair to know that he understood Primal Vernacular. It was the language used for medical terms and although it had not been necessary, he had learned the language while at the Academy in his youth to better study the terms for tests. He couldn’t speak it, but he understood most of what Vos was saying. Perhaps, in the future, he might say something that could benefit the medic without them knowing.

Though he had to admit he was relieved to know he had been bought to be useful, rather than as just a berthwarmer. He knew it could still happen, but if or when it did he could hope his usefulness would prevent them from brutalizing him too badly…

"Yeah... But Vos... What about some of our secrets..?" Kaon said, frowning as he nervously twitched his helm- a habit he maintained from when he still had optics and could look away. "I mean, unless we lock him up in Nickel's medbay - hey who do you think will be worse listening to? Ratchet or Nickel–"

" _Excuse me?_ " a voice growled which made both DJD members jump and look down.

And what do you know – there was Nickel looking annoyed up at Kaon.

"You two are 40 kliks late! Tarn said to be back by a certain time and you two nodes forgot didn't you?"  
The minibot scolded.

At the sight of the femme, Ratchet grunted through the gag and clanked his cuffed servos together, then pointed to his mouth. When could he get this damn thing out? It was starting to make his jaw ache. Her gaze landed on Ratchet as the medic started making noise- how she didn’t notice him before was beyond him since he was taller than Kaon and Vos combined. Her optics widened, "What the..? Don't tell me– you didn't did you?"

"Well..." Kaon said slowly and shrugged his shoulders, "It was—"

"No, I don't want to hear excuses! I swear..." she huffed before turning away and motioning for them to hurry up, "Tarn, Tess and Helex are waiting in the ship... They are probably annoyed, we have a lot we have to do and Pet has probably began chewing up my berth because you have been away for too long."

Needless to say the minibot nagged them all the way to the Peaceful Tyranny, and Ratchet never did get the gag removed before then. 

As they walked he tuned them all out and glanced around. This was the first he had seen of Cybertron since his capture. He was surprised at what he saw. It was just...mechs walking around in the partly rebuilt city. He didnt see any other slaves. Yet. Then again, having one was a status symbol so not many would have one...Besides the wide berth their group was given it all just seemed...too _normal_. It didn’t mesh with the cruelty he and the other Autobots had endured within Swindle’s captivity.

The walking didn’t exactly help with his fatigue though. A minute passed into five, into ten, and the older mechs stride began to lag.

Kaon was the first to notice him falling behind, since he sensed the others spark readings. With an annoyed growl he paused and turned back around. “Keep up!” He knew where the others servos were and so made a blind grab between them to grab onto cuffs. “We’re almost there anyway and I don’t want to have to wheel you there!” His electric chair alt-mode had wheels on it- it wasn’t exactly the best transportation, but if he could hold Blackshadow, carrying Ratchet the rest of the way to the ship would be no issue. He just didn’t want to.

Ratchet growled behind the gag since it was all he could do. Still, the beratement did garner Vos and Nickel’s attention. 

"Also ungag him for Primus sake, before we get there," the minibot demanded before shaking her helm, "Ugh, the shape he is in is horrible! It's like –are you listening Vos?"

Vos rolled his optics before glancing back to her and nodded his helm, then gestured towards Kaon to remove the gag. The red mech ‘saw’ the gesture and tugged on the cuffs. Wanting the gag removed as soon as possible, Ratchet obeyed, even though his knees groaned a protest against the crouch. As soon as it was gone he twisted his helm away and spat the build up of oral lubricant onto the ground. “About damn time…” he groused.

“If you know what’s good for you, Autoscum, you’ll keep your damned mouth shut without the gag.”

“Everyone stop bickering! We’re almost there and I’d hate to keep Tarn waiting even longer.”

For the medic’s sake, at least they weren’t wrong about how close they were. They continued on for only a few more feet before turn down a side street. Here Ratchet froze, optics blowing wide: the space port had been repaired and revived. It was filled with ships of every kind as well as the hum and buzz of mechs doing their business. 

“Quit dawdling!”

Ratchet yipped as a sudden jolt spasmed through his arms; that hadn’t been the shock collar. As the pain finished travelling through him he saw Kaon smirking up at him, the coils on his back still crackling with the threat of another discharge. Fury bubbled in his lines- but being held prisoner so long, he had learned to curb his acidic glossa (at least somewhat). So despite the indignation he felt for the unexpected and unjustified treatment, he knew that would be far from the worst he’d get from this group. 

~Now you’re the one dawdling. Hurry up Kaon. I can see the ship~

Frame trembling, Ratchet continued following. Hate and anger still radiated from his spark for Kaon to 'see' but there was also a weariness that had settled deep in his spark. He hadn’t been entirely broken yet, as his bursts of defiance had shown, but he had already seen and endured so much- and there was only so much any bot could take. No matter how strong they supposedly were.


	2. Chapter 2

The Peaceful Tyranny was not as imposing as he had expected. In all honesty he thought they’d be using a worldsweeper. But, no. The Peaceful Tyranny was actually rather sleek. It looked like it would be fast, which in retrospect made sense, given their occupation. And the spikes that jutted throughout the design still screamed ‘Decepticon ship!!’ 

"So, what are the ground rules I’m gonna have to follow, or does Tarn have to decide that?" He finally asked, just as they arrived at the docking platform. 

The ships loading platform was already lowered. Already bored with the conversation and having to deal with Ratchet, Kaon let go of the cuffs to scamper ahead inside. His poor Pet must surely miss him. Plus, technically Ratchet was Vos’ purchase; he didn’t want to stick around for the dressing down that was going to happen once Tarn found out about it. 

Nickel sighed; Kaon was always so hyperactive. He drove her fraggin’ insane! "Well, considering the fact neither Vos nor Kaon told Tarn about bringing somebot on board, he's going to need to discuss that with you, but I can offer you words of wisdom," she smiled lightly, "Might be hard to believe but I've only been aboard the Peaceful Tyranny for a few months.” Not only that, but she was a civilian before joining the crew. With her spark seemingly in the right place there was one reason she joined the Decepticons -- her disgust and hate for all organics. There was a history behind it of course, but only with time and friendship would she ever share something like that with Ratchet.

As she spoke, the three of them walked up the ramp into the ship. 

~Don't disrespect Megatron while on this ship,~ Vos told Nickel – informing her of a ground rule.

“Vos, you know I don’t understand you,” so she didn’t know why he bothered. He was probably just used to the other DJD members being able to at least mostly understand him. “In any case, I guess you should stay out of the shrine room. Trust me, you’ll know it if you stumble upon it. Oh, and the Pet is only half domesticated so it doesn’t always listen or behave.”

Ratchet frowned to himself, but said nothing, just slowly nodded his helm with what she was saying. Even though he understood Vos, Ratchet gave no inclination that he did. He cast the other a curious look when he spoke, but when Nickel said she didnt understand him, Ratchet shrugged at her and followed behind. They'd eventually find out, he was sure, and beat him for not saying anything- but for now he could use it to his advantage. “The…Pet?” 

“Koan’s sparkeater.”

At that, Ratchet couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, “I-I’m sorry, _what_ did you just say?”

Nickle frowned as she glanced over her shoulder, “His sparkeater…look, I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true all right? They keep it docile feeding it turbofox sparks. And sometimes the sparks of mechs they hunt. So watch yourself or you might end up its next meal!”

Heh. As if that was a _threat_ to him. Too bad it wasn’t a promise. 

Nickel stopped at a door and it opened as she entered- inside being the medbay. Even though her training was really more for ship maintenance, by dint of being the only one with even remotely any medical knowledge she had become the ships de facto medic. Not like the DJD members got hurt very often, but it would still be good to have someone who really knew what they were doing. But even with her lack of formal training, even Nickel could tell that Ratchet had not been cared for properly. 

Vos did not follow the pair inside and instead decided to go report to Tarn instead. He didn’t really want to, but he knew he could not avoid it forever.

Even though Nickel was clearly just as deranged as the other DJD members, Ratchet vented a sigh of relief once the two of them were alone. He knew it was foolish, but- he felt far less threatened by the minibot than Kaon or Vos, even though there was a chance she was just as dangerous. Then he looked around the room- it had been a long, long time since he had been inside such a state of the art medbay! 

Despite his fatigue, Ratchet stepped further inside and began to slowly walk around the medbay. Nickel silently watched, allowing the medic to indulge himself. His optics had been so dull and lifeless on the way here- she couldn’t bring herself to snuff out the light that had filled them upon seeing the equipment. The Autobot should enjoy what pleasure he could. 

Ratchet ran his servos over the large MRI machine, the contaminate flusher, processor imaging screens. Then he peeked inside a few of the cabinets and doors- and was surprised to find an organ storage freezer, though he didn’t open any of the containment units. Finally though Nickel did speak up, “Ratchet…I think you should sit down now. Your frame is under enough stress as it is.”

The old mech bit back his retort- _‘Yes, thanks carrier. I appreciate the concern.’_ Yeah, that wouldn’t go over so well. Plus, he had to admit she was right. He had barely been able to walk to the ship so snooping around the medbay wasn’t doing him any favors. So he took a seat on the nearest available berth. 

Nickel approached with a cube of energon she had already drawn for him. He took it with a soft ‘thanks’ and lifted it to his lips without hesitation- if it was poisoned, well, hopefully it was fast acting. It felt so good to drink it, as it wasn’t the cheap nasty stuff he'd had while imprisoned. It was a decent mid-grade and it almost made his depleted tanks queasy to drink it. But he was so desperate for fuel that he greedily gulped it down.

“Hey, careful. Don’t drink it so fast, you can upset your tanks,” Nickel warned him. 

That was something he’d known, too. How many starved mechs had he treated in the Dead End? It was so easy to tell a starving mech to be careful or slow down; Ratchet never realized how hard that actually was. It was embarrassing and shameful so he was quick to change the subject. "...So, where exactly am I going to be staying?" He asked quietly, looking down at the cuffs on his wrists.

"I actually have to clear out the room..." she sighed, rubbing her brow, "the spare room has been used as a hoarding closet, so you might have to share a room for a while. Still, I'll try to clear it out as soon a—”

Ratchet didn’t want to share a room. Not with any of them! "Can't I just stay in here?" This was insane. Maybe he should have just taken the risk and made a break for it before. At least then maybe he'd have gotten lucky and got shot in the processor.

“Actually, I sleep in here,” she said, a tad annoyed, “It’s not like they’re going to eat you in your sleep you know…”

“So you won’t share, but they will?”

Nickel pursed her lips and narrowed her optics at the older mech, “Look, I’m not crazy about this whole…slave thing. But like it or not that’s what you are, so I’d start checking that sass of yours at the door before you say something stupid to one of the others. Be happy you’re even _getting_ your own room at all.” Well, so long as Tarn decided to let him stay, at least. 

Just at the end of her tirade the medbay door opened. In it stood a huge, hulking tan mech with a bit red X over his face. "Ugh, so it's true. Another mouth to feed," Tesarus gurgled, his voice choppy and rough, as if he were talking with a mouthful of rocks. "Hope the pipsqueaks didnt spend _our_ funds on it."

“You know they wouldn’t do that- not after what happened to Kaon last time at least,” she said, and cast the grinder a disappointed look. She still didn’t know who had hung Kaon upside down, though she suspected. It wasn’t like Tarn was immature enough for such a thing and Vos was too small. So that really only left Helex or Tess. “Besides, it’s not like we don’t have enough energon to feed him.” 

"That's not the point," Tesarus growled, coming into the medbay more and approaching the old medic. Ratchet tensed and prepared himself to be attacked, but Tesarus didn't lay a digit on him. Just loomed with his intimidating frame. "Still annoying we have to deal with an Autobot. We don't need him, but Vos is trying to convince Tarn otherwise." He grunted. "Can’t wait till he says no. You're going to be a very expensive subject- but it'd be a waste just to toss you out the airlock."

Ratchet said nothing. 

Tesarus frowned, digits curling into a fist. "...Tarn’s pissed of course. So I wouldn't bug him." He wanted to hurt the Autobot so badly, but he wouldn't. Now. Not with Nickel there to yell at him about it at least. He'd get the mech outside medbay. "Just keep him on his leash until Tarn decides what to do with him. I wouldn't worry too much about the spare room though if I were you."

“And what do you suppose we do with him if Tarn decides he’s not useful? Like you said, can't just toss him out the airlock and if we don't need him then what? Do we just have him sit around like the ship is a prison cell for the mech?" She could tell the DJD member was getting upset, but so was she- she hadn’t expected _this_ much drama over one bot!

Tesarus just gave her a flat look like she was a total idiot. Not that Tess didn't like her, but he wasn't exactly what one would call a nice mech. None of them were. Still, he was more like… the older brother who always picked on the younger siblings- but then beat up anyone else who did it. "I just said we'd get our fun out of him- haven't ground up an Autobot in a long time."

He grinned maliciously at Ratchet, though Ratchet still refused to respond. 

His servo darted out in a flash, grabbing one of Ratchet's wrists roughly and gave a hard squeeze. _That_ got the medics attention- his servos were his livelihood and his life. And they were damn near irreplaceable. Not to mention sensitive. Out of all the atrocities he had faced so far, none of his former tormentors had ever thought to mess with his servos. "No-" He whined desperately, trying to pull away.

"Oh, so you can talk," he sneered, squeezing harder. Then he looked back to Nickel; "This entire ship _is_ a prison for him. So he'd do well to learn that _now_.” Knowing that he was quickly losing his temper, he tossed his servos up. "Forget it. I’m going back to my room. I just came to see what all the fuss was about." With that he turned and stomped out of the room, anger radiating from his large frame.

Ratchet brought his bound servos close to his chest. Once Tess was gone he dryly noted; "So...should he be the one I share a room with?”

Nickel whirled around on her wheels; “ _Don’t you even start with me_!” She snarled at him. “Fine, you want to stay in here so badly? Be my guest! I don’t care right now! Are you happy with yourself? You won yourself a room!" 

Ratchet held up his servos in surrender, though he looked about as amused as Nickel. Did she really think he was trying to be funny? His situation sucked slag. Humor like that was about one of the few things keeping him sane at the moment. All his friends were either dead or slaves as far as he knew and his lot in life wasn't looking too great either. 

He said nothing as she brusquely rolled away towards the back of the medbay- more than likely where her private berth was. Was being left alone a good thing? Probably not. But with Nickel being the only one either unwilling or incapable of killing him, what did it matter if she was there or not? She obviously wouldn’t stop the others from hurting him. 

Once she was gone he hopped off the berth and began snooping around some more. What was the worst that could happen? They'd torture him to death? Fine. He wasn’t scared to die. He didn’t want to, but he wasn’t afraid to. No doubt there were cameras watching him right now so he didn’t behave badly. But he'd seen where Nickel had drawn the cube of energon from before and went there first, seeking more sustenance. He knew he shouldn’t drink too much more or risk overwhelming his systems and purging, but slag if he wasn’t hungry. One more cube wouldn’t hurt.

Unfortunately, Ratchet wasn’t given much time to decompress on his own. He got in two sips of the energon before the medbay doors opened again-

~Tarn! Just listen to me, you know I don’t- ~

"Silence!" Tarn's voice boomed in a matter that could make anybot's spark stop for several seconds. His large frame bristled and it was obvious he was furious as he stomped over to the medic. Vos trailed in behind- if he were capable of it he would have been pouting from the sound scolding he’d received.

Ratchet’s optics widened when the door opened and admitted the hulking form of the DJD's leader. He was even bigger than Megatron both in height and width and cut a very formidable figure. Ratchet had never seen any of the DJD before today, but he knew all their names and a bit about them and without a doubt he knew this was Tarn.

He hastened to place the energon cube down- and managed to do so just before Tarn roughly grabbed him by the arm. The purple mech hunched so that he could lock optics with the medic. 

"Tell me Ratchet –why should I trust an Autobot medic aboard my ship?" He asked in a smooth and calm voice, despite his obvious fury. It was actually rather disconcerting, to hear the mech sound so calm yet have him holding the medic so tightly. "I have very good reasons to not trust Autobot medics. I have done so in the past and it still weighs heavily upon me.”

Ratchet opened and shut his mouth a few times before steeling himself; "Honestly? I have no reason to give you. Any chance I get, any opportunity you give me, I'll try and escape."

"Whether or not you should trust me to treat you or your subordinates?" He shrugged; "I'd be stupid not to. Besides, what would it matter? Not like there are any other Autobots I have to worry about you killing..."

His optics narrowed at what followed; “Are you talking about Pharma?” He had heard about that incident. _Every_ Autobot did. It was considered one of the biggest travesties of the later stages of the war. Well, before they lost at least. First Aid had just barely escaped with his life once he'd figured out what Pharma was doing. Ambulon had not been so lucky with the rust plague...Ratchet sighed in defeat; "I don’t know what you want me to say Tarn- Master? Sir?" The medic unsure what he should call the other since no one had told him yet; "But that's all I've got to offer you."

Ratchet’s refusal to hunch over or crouch was very key right now. If the Autobot had done so, Tarn would have likely decided to just flat out kill him. Fear was so natural to see in other mechs and femmes that Tarn hardly considered it anymore. To not expect it was a very high expectation. Though the honesty made the leader’s optics soften ever so slightly—at least this old mech wasn’t going to try and lie in his face… Slag did he hate liars so much. Of course any other bot would have thought Ratchet’s response foolish, Tarn saw it as a breath of fresh air compared to what he was used to. Kaon was right; there was still a sliver of rebelliousness in the mech that would be fun to play with. It would be interesting to see how much he could endure…

“Running away seems to be a common tactic; Sixshot tried it, Blip tried it, Blackshadow tried it… In the end we always find them,” Tarn stated as a matter of fact before adding in a warning tone, “For one thing I do not want you addressing me as ‘master.’ I am still trying to process the fact slavery has become commonplace. Everyone addresses me as Tarn; you will do the same.”

Oh-ho. So the mighty DJD _can_ question their all mighty and great leader Megatron? Though Ratchet remained mute on that.

“And yes. I’m trying to get a good idea what sort of bot you are Ratchet. I don’t want to see a Pharma on the Peaceful Tyranny,” Tarn explained, “I’m looking for proof if I should let you live or flat out kill you.”

"What kind of proof can I give you? It's not like I have physical evidence to prove I’m not like Pharma. You're asking if I’m trustworthy and useful; of course I'm going to say yes. But I can’t say or do anything right now to make you believe it."

~I really doubt this old mech could be that dangerous Tarn. Besides, you’re unkillable~ Vos snorted with confidence.

The DJD leader shot the sniper rifle a glare which made it clear the newest member should probably shut up unless he wanted to be punished or scolded. But Tarn slowly turned his gaze back to Ratchet and spoke, “This is true. There is absolutely nothing you could do to convince me of your trustworthiness, especially given how…forthright you have been. However…I will admit that you interest me and Vos here has very persuasively advocated for you to stay with us. So, you have a few options here, Ratchet. You can serve as a day’s worth of amusement for my crew or you can bide your time and attempt to ‘escape’ us in the future… Or you can accept the fact your situation is bleak and futile; behave well and prove yourself to me, and I might even be willing to let you join the DJD in the future.” Behind his mask, the mech smirked as he watched the shock of such a suggestion appear on the medic’s face.

“A DJD member? Me? Are you out of your _mind_?”

Tarn actually laughed at that, the sound melodic. “Oh? And why is that so surprising? Nickel has only been with us a few months and she fits right in now,” he purred and finally released his hold on Ratchet. Before the medic could protest further, Tarn turned towards Vos- the smaller mech instantly standing straight under his leaders scrutiny. 

“Since he is technically your purchase- you will be the first to escort him. Ratchet may have free range of the ships utilities, including energon and the washracks, but he must be supervised by one of us at all times.” Then he glanced back over his shoulder towards the medic, “How about you think on your answer, Ratchet, and get back to me tonight.”

With that, the tank took his leave of the medbay, leaving the two mechs alone with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right I'm about 1/2 way through with editing the RP portion! And for those curious it will take until chpt. 9 before things start getting _really_ intense [ie: thats when ALL the warning tags come into play]. Even though I have about 40k of this done Im still gonna only post once a week or once every other week since I'll be starting summer classes soon and idk how intense those will be! So want to keep a nice buffer for that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long for such a short update guys ^^; Got a bit busy and didn't have time to work on it. Next few chapters will be regular length and with a bit more going on in them- I just thought this was a good place to divide this chapter from the next.

The two mechs stared at one another; Vos neutral and impassive while Ratchet twitched under the silent scrutiny. “So, ah…does that mean these can come off?” He asked, and held up his bound servos.

~Perhaps if you misbehave. But for now, we need those~ Vos chuckled to himself, missing the minute way Ratchet froze up. Still, when the smaller mech approached Ratchet allowed him to grasp the cuffs. He didn’t recall Swindle giving him a key for it, actually, so he was curious as to how the other was going to remove it. After inspecting them, Vos released him, then went over to a nearby drawer. Inside there were rows of carefully organized scalpels and drill bits. Vos selected one of the former- a laser scalpel, Ratchet could tell, even before it was activated. 

It was tedious to saw through both cuffs, though that was mostly because Vos was trying not to damage Ratchet’s servos. If he hadn’t cared they would have been off it seconds flat. ~There. Better?~

“Ah…thanks.” 

Right. Ratchet couldn’t understand him. That would make things even more complicated, especially since he desired the others tutelage. The sniper crossed his arms over his chest as he pondered over that conundrum. In the meantime, Ratchet picked up the energon cube again.

“Listen, Vos- If this is going to work, we need _some_ way to communicate,” he said, still feigning ignorance. “Do you know chirolinguistics at all?”

Vos immediately perked up at that. As it so happened he did know the hand language. Not fluently, he didn’t know how to formulate more complicated words or sentences, but he knew enough to get by. 

Suddenly Ratchet had an overly eagerly DJD member invading his personal space, the smaller bot holding his servos up eagerly. Erm. Well, he hadn’t meant right now. Unless there was something Vos wanted to tell him? He glanced down at the cube of energon in his servos, then sighed as he placed it down once more so he could free up his servos for the other. Vos immediately laced their digits together.

His chirolinguistics were fast and hard to follow at first, the mech overly enthusiastic. “Ah, Vos- slow down. I can’t understand you…”

//Apologies Ratchet. Was just thinking how we could talk and you came up with this right away. I never would have thought of this. Not many mechs know it.//

“Right, well…I was sort of hoping you would be willing to explain things to me. Like why you bought me? And…perhaps you would allow me to rest? I don’t feel very well.” It was strange, unnatural for him to be so cordial with someone. Especially with a bot a hated. Primus. If the whole damned ship blew up right now- 

He grimaced, but managed to bite down on his glossa as the violent thought of his master’s deaths activated the shock collar. The pain of it lanced through his systems, almost making him miss Vos’ explanation. 

//Need a medic. Not hurt much, but if we are- Nickel is not real a medic. Plus, I want a tutor. Tarn was teaching me Neocybex, but, does not have much time.// All things Ratchet already knew, but he allowed his frame to visibly relax. //And yes. Come. We go to my room.//

“O-oh. Well, Nickel said I can recharge here, in the medbay-”

Garnet optics narrowed. The gentle hold on his servos turned to pinpricks of fire as Vos’ claws quickly curled forward and dug into his knuckles. Ratchet grit his denta; it hurt, but both of them knew it was little more than a warning. “Your room it is,” he hissed. The moment he was released he yanked his servos to his chasis to gently rub the drops of energon away. 

Vos growled at him for good measure, then turned to lead the way. Primus. Talk about bi-polar much? Before leaving Ratchet snagged the energon cube to drink along the way.

The Peaceful Tyranny was a large ship for just six- well, now seven bots on it. Not including the Pet. Still, Ratchet was a little surprised they didn’t run into anyone else in the halls. He tried his best to keep track of the twist and turns, but he was just so tired. Honestly. He was a bit impressed with himself actually for not passing out on the floor.

When they finally stopped Ratchet had the distinct impression they walked past this door before. He couldn’t tell for sure but he wouldn’t have put it past the other to deliberately try and confuse him like that. 

When the door opened though, it wasn’t what Ratchet had expected.

“Um. I thought you said we were going to your quarters?” Inside was a small lab. It wasn’t even trying to look like anything else. Along the walls were counters lined with beakers and test tubes full of bubbling chemicals, two sinks, and a decontamination chamber. There was also a dissection table in the middle of the room with crusted fluids that he didn’t try to examine too closely. It looked like a fraggin’ evil lair! Sure, they were horrific torturers and murderers but did their rooms have to reflect that too? Primus.

~This is my room! Well, it’s in the back. How else can I be close enough to monitor my experiments at all hours?~ Vos turned and spread his arms out wide to welcome Ratchet inside. Except. The medic was just standing inside the doorframe. Vos cocked his helm to the side, then glanced over his shoulder. Hm. Right. He had not really thought this out. None of his brothers minded his lab. Of course the Autobot would be squeamish though. 

Darting up to the Autobot he grabbed Ratchet’s servos again, //Is ok. You rest in my berth. I will work. Won’t hurt you.// Even though he was not speaking, he crooned to the bot in an attempt to soothe him. 

Ratchet was apprehensive when he entered Vos' space, armor drawn in tight to his frame. Vos’ reassurances weren’t actually all that calming, believe it or not. After all he had no way of knowing whether or not he’d end up being what the other decided to ‘work’ on! He really wished he could have stayed in the medbay. He knew Nickel wouldn’t protect him but at least it was a familiar environment. 

Vos lead him past the counters, tables, and berth into an off shoot that was more to the left of the lab than in the far back. Vos palmed the door open and this time, the interior was more traditional. A berth up against the right wall, a dresser, some shelves filled with datapads and a few model ships. He even spotted a few board games crammed on top of each other. The smaller mech moved out of the way, then gestured towards his berth.

~Rest well, Ratchet.~ Then he slipped past the medic, leaving Ratchet to stand in the middle of the room on his own. While he seriously doubted the DJD would have security in their own rooms, he felt it prudent to refrain from touching any of Vos’ things. Besides, the moment he sat on the berth, a sigh of contentment escaped. The recharge slab in containment had been worse than sleeping on a rock. In comparison his aft sank into the soft confines of Vos’ berth. It sent tingles of discomfort through his legs, the moment he took pressure off them the pins and needles set in. And yet, it was still a huge relief to finally sit: to be able to relax and have fuel in his tank. 

‘If I just…lay my head down…’ The prospect of being experimented on still haunted his mind. Yet the moment his back hit the berth, Ratchet was gone; dragged down into the bliss of exhaustion ridden unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

He didn’t want to wake up. All the aches and pains he had become so used to in his frame were, for once, not bothering him. The berth cocooned him in comfort and warmth; his heavy frame sank down so that the cushioning cupped him and kept him from moving around too much. It was nice. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good. 

Pity his tank had to disagree.   
He had grown so used to being hungry. But having half a tank full, even just once, spoiled him and now he couldn’t ignore the audible grumbling. Blue optics blinked online-

“Primus!” Ratchet jumped and scrambled to sit up in the berth. 

At the end, squatting near where his pedes had just been, was Vos. 

“Vos…what are you doing?” It took him a moment to formulate the sentence. His immediate reaction would have been to demand _What the slag are you doing?!_ But he had enough sense to know that wasn’t a smart move. Still, what the slag?! Had the mech been watching him recharge?

Vos chirred at him, then scampered up the berth, palms up and out. Taking the hint, Ratchet hesitantly offered his own palms.

//Asleep a long time, Ratchet. Worried you would not wake up.//

“Oh. How long was I asleep?” 

//A whole day!// 

Ratchet blinked at him. Well, that would explain why he was feeling so hungry. Before he could even give voice to the thought, Vos added, //Tarn’s not happy. Let’s get you fuel. Then we’ll see him.//

Tarn wasn’t happy, huh? That didn’t sound like good news. But, if they were going to kill him, why bother feeding him? Of course, killing him wasn’t the only thing they could do. Tesarus’ earlier threat came to mind.

He followed close in the halls, desperate not to get lost. Now that he was well rested and better fueled than before, there was a good chance Vos would lead him around in circles again. This time, though, their route was direct. The faster he fueled the faster they could meet with Tarn he supposed, though he really had no idea what was going on inside the little psychos head. 

When they entered a wide open area though, Tesarus and Helex were both already there, sitting at a table and talking. Or, well, Tess was talking. Helex rarely said much of anything. There were two tables pushed off to the left of the door. To the right, a long counter top was embedded into the wall with three stools placed in front of it. The energon dispenser was there too. In the back, he could see the back of a lounge and a huge holoviewer was mounted to the wall. 

The living smelter turned and stared at their entrance, making Ratchet incredibly uncomfortable. 

"So, the little wimp finally decided to wake up, huh?" Tess snorted, lifting his cube of energon to take a swig of it. “What a waste of time and credits…I’m surprised to see him intact though.”

While Ratchet had every right to be feeling uncomfortable, Vos didn’t care for the medics comfort and forcibly tugged him inside. If Ratchet wanted to he could have resisted- he was physically stronger than Vos- but continued to allow himself to be mech handled. So together they entered the room and headed for the energon dispenser. While getting energon Vos scoffed and replied, ~Unlike _some_ of us I am quite capable of resisting my urges. I’m sure by now you’d have gotten bored and chopped him up without us.~

Tess laughed, his blades grinding together to make the sound even harsher. "Damn right I would. Wouldn't even have to get bored to do it," he smirked, sneering at the medic when he walked by. "But I've learned not to touch your stuff," he huffed, waving a servo dismissively at Vos. While the two talked, Ratchet scampered over to the counter and took a seat on one of the stools. His armor was flat against his frame and he kept an optic on the two large mechs over his shoulder. Tess was just being an afthole towards him, but Ratchet didn’t know that. 

Vos was seated at the counter already, sans energon, and the stool turned to face Tess for their conversation. ~Speaking of being bored though—it feels like it’s been forever since we went after anyone. But, Megatron updated the list while you were there, right?~

"Mmm, yeah. There have been a few more updates. Latest one was for a bot named Krok and his crew of merry misfits. Last known coordinates were over three galaxies away, but still closer than the others. Whatever Tarn decides to go for." He shrugged. None of them could say they had ever heard of the mech so he must have been some lowly foot soldier. However, it wasn’t often they got to fight a _group_. So even if they were just a bunch of losers maybe they could get some real entertainment out of them. Heck, if they were really lucky there’d be enough for each of them to get one of their own! Considering there were still bots like Deathsaurus around though, it really was up to Tarn as to whom they would go after first.

Helex remained mute on the subject. He wasn’t a mech of many words and it wasn’t like it was an important conversation that required his input. He just tossed down another card on the table, which was when Ratchet finally noticed the pair had actually been playing a game. By this point he had finished half his cube of energon and pushed the rest towards Vos. It drew the mechs attention, but Vos just did his little helm tilt again.

Ratchet nudged the cube again and raised an optic ridge at him-

"Vos can’t drink energon. Doesn’t have a mouth, gearshaft."

Ratchet raised his other optic ridge as understanding flashed across his face though he didn’t move to take the energon either. He couldn’t possibly drink anymore; not without upsetting his atrophied tank. “Sorry. I just assumed-” 

“Well you know what they say about assuming things.” 

Ratchet grit his denta and finally turned to fully face the pair. “Yes, so sorry, _sir_ ,” as he had yet to catch their names. Honestly, besides Tarn, he hadn’t been formally introduced to anyone. He only knew Vos, Kaon, and Nickel’s names from them talking to each other. He knew enough about the DJD that they had to be Helex and Tesarus, but he couldn’t recall enough about them to distinguish who was who.

Clearly the mech didn’t have the same class as Tarn and just laughed again, “Heh. Sir. Kinda like the sound of that.”

“Tesarus,” Helex finally sighed. “Shut up.” 

“Oh that’s rich, coming from _you_. Can’t get in a word edgewise with you, eh?”

Seeing that Tess was about ready to have one of his tirades on poor Helex, Vos swiveled back around in his stool towards Ratchet. ~You done then?~

Ratchet just held up his servos in response. 

//Are you done?// He repeated.

Well, as _fun_ as this was, it was time to face the music. No more procrastinating. “Done and as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Vos hopped down from the stool. Ratchet followed suite though his gaze longingly fell back to the cube. A war started over classism had very quickly shifted into a war over resources. Four million years, fighting for equality and energon- and here he was: a slave, leaving behind a half finished cube of fuel as if it were nothing. He itched to take it along with him, even if he wasn’t going to drink it, just so it wasn’t wasted-

~Ratchet!~

He jumped and immediately turned to follow Vos out of what he assumed to be the rec room. Just in time too, since Tesarus suddenly lunged across the table, the arm like mounts on his shoulders reaching out to grab Helex’s face. Though the smelter easily caught them in his massive primary servos and stood, yanking Tess across the table with his movement. 

“Um…” Vos grabbed Ratchet’s arm to drag him away from the sight; “Is that normal?”

Vos didn’t bother answering- Ratchet couldn’t understand him and he didn’t have the patience to stop and sign a response. 

As their leader, Tarn enjoyed many perks. One being that his room was located in the center of the ship, just down the hall from Megatron’s shrine. Not only did this make it more protected from attack or raiders, should that possibility ever occur, but it also meant he was roughly equidistant to every major part of the ship. 

At the moment though, this just meant it didn’t take Vos and Ratchet very long to get to Tarn’s room. It was always a 50/50 chance he was here or in the study when not roaming about, but Vos had commed ahead to check where the other was. So when they arrived, the door was unlocked and opened when Vos palmed the lock pad.

Tarn’s room was much more personalized than Vos’ had been. For one, it was actually painted- a light, pleasant lavender. He had more shelves and many more datapads that lined them. From what Ratchet could see, most of them were poetry and literature. One wall was covered in framed images of mechs and femmes- though who they were was beyond Ratchet’s guess. Previous victims perhaps? It wouldn’t be beyond the DJD to take trophies he supposed, though none of the bots in the images looked scared or hurt…

Tarn himself was seated at a large black desk with his back to them when they entered, but stood and turned to face them once he heard the door close behind them. Behind that mask his expression was inscrutable as ever and his optics gave away nothing.

“So. You finally decided to rejoin us. How considerate of you, Ratchet.”

His plating twitched, but Ratchet refused to shrink under that terrible gaze. “Apologies Tarn. I had only meant to rest a little. I did not expect to sleep for so long.”

Hidden under his mask, Tarn’s mouth quirked into a small smile. Such a gracious response wouldn’t come from a stubborn mech ready to die. When Ratchet went it would be full of fire. “I suppose we should have expected as much. You did not come to us in peak condition, after all… 

So, tell me. Have you made your decision then?” He asked, even though he already anticipated the medic’s answer.

“What? Between whether I want to live or die?” 

“In so many words, yes.”

Ratchet pursed his lips, his gaze flicking down towards Vos then back up. In all honesty it wasn’t like he had much choice anyway. The anti-suicide chip wouldn’t allow him to choose death even if he wanted it. Which, back in Swindle’s holding cells, he would have welcomed it. However- knowing that his death would be wrought by the DJD was enough incentive for any sane bot to choose the former. “…I’ll be your medic,” he finally relented. It was like he’d said before- what would it matter anyway? The likelihood of the DJD running into any free Autobots was so slim, especially since the group would be more focused on hunting former Decepticons anyway. It also meant there was still a small chance he could run away. He knew Tarn was right and that he wouldn’t be able to escape forever- but if he could find someone, anyone, willing and able to remove the suicide chip it would be enough.

The odds were stacked against him, but as things were such a slim hope was the only thing that could keep him from collapsing under the strain. 

A heavy servo gripped his shoulder; “I knew you were a smart mech. Just be sure not to disappoint me.” As he released Ratchet, Tarn turned back towards his desk- a clear dismissal if Ratchet ever saw one. Was that..it? Vos had made it seem like the meeting was going to be so much worse. Hadn’t Tarn been mad about being kept waiting? 

The fact Vos wasn’t leaving made Ratchet’s plating crawl with unease. 

“Oh, and one more thing…” Tarn paused with a servo on the back of his chair, ready to pull it out. But he tilted his helm to stare at them from the corner of an optic; “That collar…tell me, what is its purpose?”

The collar? That wasn’t something he had expected to be asked about; wasn’t something he thought the DJD would care about. One servo lifted to delicately touch the heavy band that had been secured to his neck for Primus knew how long. At this point, he hardly paid it notice anymore. “It’s…a behavior collar. Any thought of violence or deliberate disobedience of an order and it delivers a shock.”

“Hm…and that’s _all_ it does?”

Um? “It…also allows Swindle to track me?” He offered hesitantly, unsure what Tarn was looking for. He really did not want to admit that the collars had tracking capabilities, for obvious reasons, but at the same time maybe-

"As I suspected, though I couldn’t be sure…I don't like anything that can give a location, not on my ship," he said coldly, optics narrowing, "Swindle is the sort whose loyalty weighs on who can pay him the most, it always has been. There are _many_ out there that would pay greatly to know where we are.” He twisted to the side so he was more fully looking at them both. “How is the collar attached? I assume it is not simply a lock if it can read your intentions.”

Ratchet’s digits gently stroked over the front of the collar, mouth twisted into a frown. “There is a connector, in the back, that plugs into the medical port on my neck. Trying to take the collar off without Swindle’s key will lead to some…unsavory results, I’m sure.”

Tarn stroked a digit thoughtfully over the bottom of his mask. He wasn’t worried about Ratchet becoming violent against them or disobeying. Even the smallest of their number would be more than capable of handling the medic even if he were at full strength. And the Autobot would very, _very_ quickly learn the error of disobeying them. Swindle having the capability to track them, however, was not something Tarn could abide. It would be such a waste to have to kill the medic though, if that was what Ratchet was implying would happen if they took the collar off-

~Tarn, if the collar is electromagnetically controlled, why not just have Kaon deal with it?~ Vos finally spoke up. ~A quick zap should, theoretically, disable it.~ 

“Hm…it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try at least. Always with the good ideas, my dear Vos,” Tarn crooned. He even allowed his spark gift to whisper out and gently caress his subordinates spark. 

Vos was visibly elated by the praise. 

“Very well. Take Ratchet to Kaon. And if it works…take him to the washracks after,” he gestured towards the medic’s frame, “if he’s to remain on the ship I don’t want to have to look at such a mess.”

Ratchet visibly _bristled_ at that. Not his fault his frame was so dirty! And it infuriated him for it to be insinuated as much- if Tarn had such a problem with it, he could take it up with his jailers.

Though he was grateful for the fact he would apparently be getting the collar off. The suicide chip was separate from it, having been directly implanted in his processor, but having the heavy band off his neck would be one less burden he had to carry. Though he knew that if Kaon failed, his ‘choice’ to remain with the DJD would become a moot point. 

This time, they were well and truly dismissed. Tarn pulled his chair out and sat back down at his desk, his back to them once more. 

Taking the hint, Vos backed Ratchet out of Tarn’s room into the hallway. ~Well…I suppose eventually you’d need to meet Pet. I better warn Kaon to keep him under control~ Vos muttered to himself.

The Decepticon held Ratchet’s servo in his own as he once more led him through the ship’s winding hallways. He tried to tug it away, but Vos wasn’t as distracted by his own ramblings as he appeared to be, his hold tightening on the verge of painful. 

Okay, so, the big bad Decepticon liked to hold servos? If Ratchet thought that was surprising he was in for a real treat once he found out about Kaon’s little quirk. After all, there was a secret reason Vos had purchased the Autobot that he had yet to reveal to his brothers.

As they walked, Ratchet did have a few questions on his mind. Mostly about whether Vos would be his only escort. Tarn had insinuated the others might watch him as well, but he was still getting used to just Vos’ peculiarities. He wasn’t sure he could handle being passed around a lot, at least not yet. But he didn’t bother asking, not right now. He got the hint last time and knew it was pointless to ask Vos while they were walking.

So instead, he concentrated on the paths they were taking, hoping to start mapping out the ship in his mind. It had been so long since he needed to exercise himself mentally that he knew it would take some time before he could adequately navigate the halls on his own. Still, the sooner he started memorizing, the better.

Without his chronometer he couldn’t tell for sure, but if he had to guess he’d say it only took about five minutes to walk from Tarn’s room to Kaon’s. Heh, after this he’d have seen half the DJD’s quarters in just one day. Except this time when they approached, the door opened while they were still a few strides away.

Kaon had known they were coming- both from Vos’ comm and from reading their spark signatures. And, honestly, Pet wasn’t a creature he controlled so much as they had mutual understanding with one another. And so it was better to err on the side of caution by not letting the two meet quite yet. It would be better to wait when Kaon could leash the beast and wasn’t worrying about dealing with Ratchet at the same time.

“So- Tarn decided to keep you around. I’m surprised. And a bit disappointed,” he scoffed. “It’s been such a long time since we played with an Autobot~”

Ratchet raised an optic ridge at the other even as Vos scoffed, ~You did not seem so against it at the time~

“Yeah, cuz it was your credits you spent. I never thought Tarn was gonna let you keep an Autobot _pet_ ,” he sneered. “But, whatever. I’m sure Rat here will mess up in the future. Not like we’re his cup of energon,” he cackled.

Vos just sighed and rolled his optics. Why must his brother be so contradictory? Not that he was one to talk, but of course Vos didn’t see it. ~You shouldn’t be so dismissive, Kaon. After all, he’s to be your new cuddle buddy~ 

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Kaon squawked. Ratchet was thinking the same thing- _what_ was that supposed to mean?

~You know nobody likes your nightly visits. And you’re still lucky I haven’t eviscerated you for last time!~

Okay, what the slag were they talking about?

Kaon growled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I already apologized like a bajillion times! Primus, get over it!” 

~YOU DARE?!~ Kaon had some nerve to tell him to get over such a thing, when the mech knew of his past! Vos snarled and leapt forward, claws out, ready to slash Kaon to ribbons.

So, apparently infighting really was a problem for the Cons. Not that he didn’t know that, but he had expected better from the DJD- from Megatron’s so called elite. It was just one more issue he was going to have to deal with too. “Uh…guys? The tracking collar?”

Vos had Kaon pinned against his door, claws around his throat while the other set were raised and poised to strike. Kaon’s coils were snapping electricity, though the mech had yet to discharge it into his brother. Both bots attentions turned towards Ratchet when he dared to speak up. 

There was a tense moment of growling between the two before Vos moved away from Kaon is disgust. ~Just get the collar off so we may leave.~

Kaon rubbed at his throat and straightened himself out. That ‘conversation’ was not over yet, but he’d have to wait to finish it with Vos. He honestly wasn’t sure what was allowed with the Autobot yet so he wasn’t going to take any chances; Tarn wanted the collar off, so his focus would have to be on that. “…Yeah, fine. Whatever. Get over here, Autoscum.” But the DJD as a whole were going to need to have a discussion about what was and wasn’t allowed around the medic.

He didn’t really want to approach either DJD member with how pissed off they clearly were. But standing there like an idiot would no doubt just piss Kaon off even more. So Ratchet took a single deep invent to shore up his courage before approaching the smaller bot. He had to crouch down a little bit in order for Kaon to reach his neck. 

Spindly digits touched the collar- Kaon could see the medic’s electrical pulses running through his frame. It was so much brighter and more active than the collars that it took him a moment to focus on the device’s charge. But, once he found it, he could map out where the collar connected to Ratchet’s neck and the powercell where the shock originated from. He adjusted his own charge- then zapped the collar with it.

“Uuuugh!” Ratchet’s arms both jerked up, knocking Kaon’s away from him, just as the rest of his frame locked up in pure agony. Both DJD members watched as the Autobot collapsed to the floor, his entire frame spasming from the overload of electricity. Kaon had overloaded the powercell, causing it to malfunction and short out- which, in turn, caused it to send out one last bolt through Ratchet. Combined with the fact that the metal collar was conductive to electricity meant Kaon’s burst had multiplied the effect. 

At least it worked- the collar clicked and the front of it split open. Vos waited dispassionately until the last spasm wracked the medics frame before bending down to pick up the collar. A small ‘snick’ heralded the release of the cord jacked into the neck port. Vos held up the collar and examined it. He wanted to take it back to his lab to study it, but he knew Tarn wouldn’t like that. Just in case the tracker was somehow still working it would be best to just toss it out the nearest airlock. 

“So what are you going to do with him?” Kaon finally asked.

~Hm. I hadn’t expected this. So I suppose I’ll have Helex come help me move him.~

Kaon shrugged; “All right. Well, I did my part,” he said. “Guess I’ll see ya tonight, Ratchet~” he crooned, even if he wasn’t sure the Autobot could hear him. He opened his door just the barest crack, a low growl emanating from within just before Kaon slipped inside and let his door shut. 

“I…I can get up,” Ratchet’s vocals crackled on static. He did not want to deal with any more DJD tonight. He didn’t even think about the fact he had responded to Vos speaking, but if it came down to it, it would be easy enough to play it off.

His servos trembled while he attempted to push them under his frame. It was a rather pathetic sight to behold, but Vos wasn’t exactly in a hurry. If the medic wanted to be stubborn and endure further agony, he wasn’t going to stop him. When Ratchet finally did manage to stand he had to lean against the wall and his vents were running ragged.

~Ratchet, you can barely stand. Never mind walk. This is enough~ Vos tossed up his servos and was about to comm Helex when the medic suddenly pushed away from the wall and began stumbling away from him down the hall. Of all the- 

~Don’t you walk away from me!~ Vos skittered after the bot, not like he really needed to catch up. Of all the stubborn, thick headed- URG! His claws hooked into the seams of Ratchet’s arm and drew energon. ~I am already not in a good mood, so you really don’t want to aggravate me more~ He growled, ignoring the others wince from the cuts. Too damned bad. If he wasn’t so stubborn he wouldn’t have to endure any of this at all! Really- it occurred to Vos that as a slave, Ratchet was acting too forward and that perhaps he was being too lenient. Then again, punishing Ratchet when the bot didn’t understand him wouldn’t do any good. It wouldn’t teach him anything, at any rate, other than to fear him. Which was all well and good under normal circumstances, but if Tarn really did want the other to be treated respectfully? Vos wasn’t sure how to react. They really did need to talk about this- not that he could complain since he was the one to bring this on all of them.

At least the more they walked, the more stable Ratchet became so that when they finally reached Vos’ lab again, he was able to walk without sliding against the wall. Even if he did still have a slight limp and kept shuddering every now and then. 

//Do you need to rest?// he asked once they were inside and he could grasp Ratchet’s servos in his own again. 

“I just…need to sit for a moment. The surge has run its course, but, it did damage a few motor relays and neuron synapses.”

That didn’t sound good. //Do you need Nickel?// he asked, even as he was already leading the medic towards his work bench to sit. 

Ratchet shook his helm, “No. No, it isn’t anything she should worry about. They will heal on their own, given enough time. Everything’s just sore right now.” It was all minor damage his self-repair could handle. At least, so long as they continued fueling him.

Vos pondered this for a moment, //Would you rather rest then, or shower?//

He actually couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Was Vos supposed to be his carrier or something? Sure, Tarn and Tess had tried to intimidate him, but otherwise the DJD actually haven’t been so bad? Vos had his mood swings where he’d snap and scratch at him, but honestly Sunstreaker had done worse to him on occasion when he was in a snit over his paint. He had expected to be hit or worse during his meeting with Tarn- or even just hurt at all for the fun of it by the others. Why were they being so…nice? As nice as a Decepticon could get at any rate. 

//It’s been so long. I’d actually rather shower now. Then maybe get some more rest.// Ratchet signed back, digits moving more gracefully than Vos’. 

//Very well. I have my own private racks we can use.// Vos gave Ratchet a few more minutes to sit and catch his vents. He waited until the older mech pushed away from the work bench on his own. Every DJD member had their own private washracks. As much as they needed to trust each other to an extent to work efficiently, they were each very private mechs. Plus, it wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford such luxury.  
Vos’ was located within the lab for convenience in case he spilled something on himself during one of his experiments. He kept one arm wrapped around Ratchet’s lower back to help support the Autobot while he hobbled alongside Vos. 

When they reached their destination, the medic's optics brightened and he visibly perked up. It wasn’t a huge rack- it was more of a one bot stall honestly. But each wall had five sprayers attached at different heights and the control panel at the front was one of the most sophisticated he had ever seen. Not including his personal one before the war. He could control the heat and solvent pressure of each individual spray, though for the moment he chose not to get fiddle with the settings. 

It really had been forever since he had last been allowed to clean up. Long before he'd even been taken captive. With Vos' permission he activated the showers and fluffed out his plating. Almost immediately the color of the solvent became grey-ish black as months of dirt washed off his frame, along with grime and other build up that had been in his joints and under armor plating.

The rack wasn’t meant for more than one bot as Vos wasn’t the sort to share. But he also wasn’t very big. So while Ratchet soaked in the heated solvent, Vos silently watched in disgust. The medic had been so filthy he had assumed that was his natural shade of white and red! Pushing himself off the wall, Vos slipped passed the medic’s side to tap against a hidden panel in the right-most wall. From within he withdrew a long bristled brush, a simple rag, and soap. When he turned back around, those vivid blue optics were fixed on the items in his servos. 

Without a word he squirted some soap on the bristled brush, then offered up the bottle and soap to the medic. 

“Thank you,” was said, whisper soft.

The two fell into a tranquil sort of quiet. Ratchet washed his front with the rag, while Vos helped to scrub under his armor with the long-handled brush. After all the abuse and neglect he had endured, Vos was the first pleasing touch he had encountered in so long. A soft purr began to rumble from his chasis. At first it'd be hard to notice, but Ratchet began to slowly sway as he started to drift off into recharge from how nice it all felt- the warmth, being clean, the painless touch of another…

~Ratchet, don’t fall asleep. I’m almost done~ Vos commented once he realized the reason the other was rocking side to side. Even if Ratchet didn’t understand him, the sound of his voice was enough to startle the other awake.

“Ah, sorry…I know it's rather pathetic, but- I'm starting to feel tired again. Any way I could convince you to let me get more sleep?”

Vos removed the brush from Ratchet’s seams and edged around the other again to turn the showers off. The medic offered up the rag and soap as well which Vos placed back inside the hidden cubby for now. Both of them were dripping wet still, but the slim mech touched the shower control panel and the shower heads transformed away, instead becoming replaced by heated dryers. 

“Oh!” Ratchet gasped at the first gust of heated air against plating. If he had a mouth, Vos would have smirked. The old bot sure was easily amazed. Or so it seemed- then again, if he were cooped up for over a year with no luxuries Vos supposed he might react the same way. Not like he’d ever know for sure.

Only once they were both suitably dry did he lead them back to his room. His intention was for Ratchet to spend his nights with Kaon- the red hellion was unable to recharge without a warm frame cuddled against his own. Something Vos had not minded. Up until the menace had tried _touching_ him, even though Kaon knew of his aversion to interface and why. Since then the blind mech spent most of his time in Tess’ berth, but like the other DJD members he preferred spending his nights alone. So thrusting the medic upon him would hopefully sate the mechs needs. But, Tesarus could deal for one more night he supposed. Ratchet didn’t seem like he could make it to his berthroom, let alone travel back to Kaon’s. 

That was where his kindness drew a line though. He had allowed the medic to recharge in his berth the first time because of how sickly he looked, but he didn’t want the other to think that was going to be the norm. Upon entering his room he held up a servo to stop the other from coming in further. He went over to one of his cupboards to draw out extra mesh blankets and a pillow, and threw them to the floor. With a sharp jab of his digits he made it quite clear: the floor was where the medic was meant to sleep.

Well, Ratchet supposed the ‘honeymoon’ period was bound to end at some point. Compared to his slab at the compound though he was sure the blankets and the floor would still be more comfortable than what he was used to. Not like he’d want to share the berth with Vos anyway. While he arranged the blankets into a plush nest, Vos turned out the lights, casting the room into darkness. Only the pinpricks of their optics and the hazy outlines of the furniture could be seen.

Ratchet curled into a small ball on top of the blankets, chin propped up on the pillow. “Night,” he said, then slowly drifted off back to sleep.

"Good... Niiight," Vos said -- a phrase Tarn helped him learn. But already, the medic was dead to the world.


	5. Chapter 5

It was early morning when Vos awoke to the sensation of somebot stirring in his berth. The sniper rifle didn't even pause to think who it could be – he immediately rolled over with a hiss, claws seeking out Kaon’s throat. ~Get out of my room!~

Kaon snapped awake immediately. Even though he had tried to be stealthy, there was always that bit of bad luck when the other member woke before he could sneak back out. By pure instinctive reaction he lashed out and smacked Vos’ claws while simultaneously hitting him with an electromagnetic pulse, magnetizing Vos’ servo to the berth. “Er…” Knowing that he was just digging himself deeper into a hole, Kaon rolled off the edge of the berth- and landed right on top of Ratchet. 

Now, Ratchet was a sound sleeper. Even after millions of years of war, that had not changed. It was something the twins used to criticize him for since it was such a liability. So even though Kaon had to get over him to get into Vos' berth, Ratchet hadn’t noticed his presence. Even Vos' shout only elicited a slight twitch from the mech. But even he couldn’t ignore Kaon’s weight landing on top of his face. Ratchet immediately sat up, knocking Kaon off of him and allowing the mech to dart out the door. "Wha--?" His blue gaze following after the red and gold blurr for a moment, before turning and blinking up at Vos. This whole fiasco had made the sniper rifle furious. He chirred with anger as he twisted his arm and tried to dart for the door to go after Kaon. Doing this however made his arm crackle with strain- the mech nearly dislocating it in his attempt to pursue his ‘brother.’

After realizing he was not, in fact, in any immediate danger, Ratchet stood from the floor- his old joints creaking with the effort- and approached the others berth. "Just calm down for five minutes and I’ll get you off the berth. Otherwise you'll dislocate something and be my first patient here," he said slowly and gently; " _Then_ you can go murder Kaon. And be at full strength to boot."

Luckily when Ratchet spoke, Vos had enough sense to cease his struggles and listen. He growled, furious with the delay, but knew the other was right. After all, it wasn’t like Kaon could truly hide- he lived on the ship too! It would only be a matter of time before Vos found him. And his memory was long; he would not easily forgive the other. Kaon had his chance, but the stupid node had ruined it by trying to push his luck. Vos had warned him and now he was going to _pay_. Ugh- just how many times did the other sneak into his room before?

Even though he received no verbal response, the lack of struggling was good enough for Ratchet. He stood from his spot on the floor and climbed up onto the berth next to Vos to grasp the trapped servo in his own. Immediately their servos magnetized together. Ratchet hissed, the current irritating the delicate sensors in his servos. But he had accounted for this, so it wasn’t surprising and he knew how to get around it.

Despite the electrical charge making it difficult for him to control his digits, Ratchet managed to curl them around Vos' palm. Once he got his digits to get between Vos and the berth, Ratchet's digits interrupted the magnetism between the two objects and the DJD member was freed from the berths surface. Except now Ratchet was the one stuck to him.

With one quick tug though, he dislodged himself from Vos. There was the sound of metal scraping against metal since the magnetism did not want to let them go, but its strength was already weakened once the initial point of contact was broken. 

Now Vos just had to chase down Kaon. He got up carefully, knowing the magnetism would last quite some time unless the red mech removed it sooner. Frag, he just had to be an afthole this morning didn't he? What did Vos even do to deserve his scrap this early anyways? Just as he dropped to the floor though, Ratchet spoke up- 

“So… I guess I’ll just wait here while you go find Kaon then," since he couldn’t leave anywhere without an escort. And he had no way of contacting the other DJD members.

The scientist paused, scowl etched into his features. He couldn’t even use chirolinguistics to communicate with Ratchet- not without the risk of getting them stuck together again. “Go Tarn—in books?” His neocybex sucked, but he was trying to tell Ratchet to go look for Tarn and that the mech was most likely in the study at this time of day. However, Kaon already got such a huge head start in getting away from him and every second of delay allowed that coward a better chance at hiding from him. So without further explanation, Vos spun around to dart out of his room, leaving a very bewildered medic behind.

"Um, yeah. Sure," Ratchet gave, even though he had no idea what Vos wanted. Well, he knew Vos wanted him to seek out Tarn, but Ratchet wasn’t going to do that. 1.) If he was caught without an escort, he didn’t want to think about what would happen to him. Tarn and the others had been very lenient with him so far, but he knew he was edging the lines a bit and 2.) He didn’t understand the second part of Vos' message. And even if he had, he had no idea where the study room was.

So he stayed where he was, for a while at least. But he was really hungry. And Vos was gone for a while. How long for sure he couldn’t tell, but long enough where he was starting to wonder where the bot was and if he would be gone all ‘day.’ He figured the purple mech was either still looking for Kaon, torturing him, or he'd done the first two options already and was doing something else now. Either way-

He hopped off the berth and exited Vos’ room back into the lab. He was smart enough not to touch anything in it- this would have been more Wheeljack’s domain. As it was, he had no idea what any of the chemicals were or what they’d do if he touched them. And despite Vos’ so-forth hospitality, he wasn’t looking to hasten the inevitable moment when he angered the DJD beyond reason. Well, not any more than what his current plan of action was going to at any rate. 

He poked his helm out into the hallway; not seeing any one, he hastened from Vos’ lab towards where he was reasonably sure the medbay was. Of course it was the one path Vos had taken him on that hadn’t been clear-cut so it was all mostly guess work. But, the Peaceful Tyranny was a huge ship so the probability of running into one of the others was slim…right? And between the medical bay and the canteen he knew his chances at getting energon uninterrupted would be the medbay. 

A low, rumbling growl made the energon in his lines freeze. An instinctive shudder passed down his back. Ratchet turned slowly; behind him a large, feral, sickly looking turbofox was crouched, fangs bared as it drooled on the floor. The creature growled again and took a step forward—Ratchet whirled back around and bolted. He could hear the ‘scritch scritch scritch’ of claws clacking on the floor behind him. Where was the medbay? _Where was the medbay?!_ He frantically wracked his processor. He had been so tired and disoriented when Vos first took him from the medbay- why did he think this was a good idea again?

His tanks rumbled at him; as if he _really_ needed the reminder. 

The clicking of claws were close. Too close. He swore he could feel the beasts ex-vents against his legs-

Apparently panic was a great way to jog the memory. Ratchet’s optics brightened as he turned a corridor, remembering this hall. Which meant the medbay was right- There! His frame clanged into the door, palm pressing desperately against the door pad. ‘Come one, _come on_!’ The door finally opened and he collapsed inside, though not before the beast leapt through the closing doors and onto his back.

“Ratchet, wha- PET! GET OFF HIM RIGHT NOW!” Nickel’s voice boomed as the minibot scurried over, servos making a shooing motion. 

Ratchet remained absolutely still, not even daring to vent. The beast snarled and oral lubricant dribbled onto the back of his neck. A wet nose snuffled the back of his helm before the weight finally shifted off of him, though not without claws catching and nicking his armor. The slight sting was easy to ignore in favor of marveling in the fact he was even alive. 

“Good boy Pet. Yes you are, _yes you are_ ,” Nickel crooned, rubbing her digits together to get the beast to come to her and away from Ratchet. “Ratchet’s a _guest_. No eating our guests, okay?” Once the Pet was close enough, she gently rubbed between its ears, then slowly coaxed it to look at Ratchet. “Come on Ratchet. Come say hi to him. He’s got to learn you’re not a snack.” 

The medic gave her a dubious look. “Are you out of your fraggin’ mind? I’m not going anywhere near that thing!”

“Either you get him used to you now, or have him chewing on your spark late at night. And let me tell you, I spent all last night cleaning out that storage room so you better make ample use of it!” 

If he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the moment, Ratchet might have admired how much after his own spark the femme sounded right then. As it was, he could barely convince his frame to move off the floor, let alone get closer to that… _thing_. 

He really hadn’t believed Nickel when she told him about the sparkeater, but…here it was. The thing sat crouched beside Nickel, yet still towered over the minibot by a full head. The graspers that protruded out the sides of its mouth prevented it from fully closing its mouth, forcing its jaw to perpetually hang open with drool dribbling out. Ratchet slowly inched closer and the beast rose up onto its legs, lips peeling back over fangs.

“Shh, shh,” Nickel cooed, and continued stroking its head. When Ratchet reached out a servo to the beast it took a sniff though Nickel’s touch shifted to the beasts scruff in warning. After a few moments she started to wheel backwards and tugged. “Come on boy, want a _treat_?” At the word, pointy ears shot up and its helm whipped around to stare at her with beady red optics. Pet eagerly followed her after that. The femme lead him to one of the freezers Ratchet had noted before. This one was a walk in.   
The Pet followed her inside. When it came back out the creature dashed away with something in its mouth, and hid under one of the berths to gnaw on it.

“Is that…a spark chamber?!” Ratchet gawked, his entire frame recoiling from the sight.

“Well, yeah. I told you we feed him turbofox sparks. Not like we’re gonna keep a bunch of live critters onboard to take care of!” 

Right. Well, that did help to relieve him a little bit, though it was still disgusting. 

Nickel rolled over to him, no longer paying Pet any attention. It would behave. At least, as well as it could at any rate. It would know to leave Ratchet alone just as it was to leave her alone. Still a good chance of getting bit, but better than being mauled and eaten! “So…you gonna tell me why you’re in here without an escort?” She asked servos planted on her hips. If Ratchet’s little trip had been sanctioned he wouldn’t have needed to worry about the sparkeater attacking since he’d have been with a DJD member.

Least the older bot had the grace to look sheepish. “Ah…already know about that, do you?” Before she could respond though, Ratchet quickly held up both servos in a placating manner. “Vos went off to go throttle Kaon. He told me to go find Tarn in the…book room? I don’t think he really thought the order out very well when he gave it, so I stayed in his room. But- he’s been gone for a while and I’m starving so-”

Nickel waved a servo at him to cut him off. “Right, right, well…I won’t say anything _this_ time. But don’t think I’ll cover for you if anyone asks about it.” Then she pointed towards the dispenser, “If you’re hungry, go get yourself a cube. And you can stay here until someone comes looking for you, I guess. I need to finish clearing out that room if you’re to use it tonight.”

“Oh. Do you want any help?”

She looked surprised at the offer. No one ever offered to help her out around here. She never complained about it since she’d seen the DJDs attempts at acting normal and they were just awful at it. And she had seen Kaon’s room too so no way would she ask him for help cleaning up. But she just shook her helm, “Nah I’d rather just do it myself. Uh, thanks for the offer though.”

Ratchet shrugged, then sipped at his freshly poured cube of energon. His engine revved happily. Good fuel. A shower. Good rest. If he offlined his optics he might have been able to imagine that things weren’t so bad. But before Nickel left to finish the room he had to ask, “So...I was told I'm to be the medic on the ship from now on. When was the last time any of them had full maintenance done on them?”

“Yeah, I heard... I'm going to miss being medic... But, I'll manage,” though the femme couldn’t help but laugh at what followed, “Mech, getting Tess to clean out his blades is hassle enough! You think I could wrangle those mechs in here for a full maintenance? They’re worse than sparklings, honestly.” She flicked her servo towards another section of the medbay, then pointed to one of the cabinets there, “But, their full medical files are in there if you want to read them. ‘Course they only go a few months back, when I started here.”

"Are you a fully trained medic? Self-taught?" He wondered, curious. "It's not like I can’t use an assistant. And if you want or need additional training it's not like I can’t do that- it'd give me something to occupy my time at the least." Since Ratchet had a feeling he wouldn’t need to be repairing the DJD members very often. 

Though the older bot groaned in dismay at what she told him. Of. Fraggin.' Course. Just his damned luck. He opticked the filing cabinet warily, but didn’t immediately go for it. He'd have plenty of time for work later. Right now he was more focused on his own recovery.

As for repairing the DJD, he had a good guess. It wasn't very common they got hurt; maybe a few scratches and minor dents here and there. But generally they rarely came back with anything serious.  
"Self-trained," she answered though listened before adding, "sure I guess I could give training a try, I already know quite a bit as it is but it couldn't hurt to learn more..." It was a win-win situation. Training would give Ratchet something to do, and thus an additional practical purpose, and Nickel would get formal tutelage from a licensed practitioner. 

“Though, I guess I ought to warn you ahead of time- each of the other DJD members are addicted to Nuke.” 

Ratchet nearly spat out his energon; “ _What_?” 

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. You think I haven’t tried getting them off it?” She shook her helm. “It’s an impossible task. Just figured I’d give you a heads up since dealing with them while they’re high is, for the most part, preferable. Pray you never see them in withdrawal.”

So they were all addicted to a highly unstable, mildly corrosive substance and yet they haven’t had a full maintenance in Primus knows how long? Ratchet could only imagine the state their energon lines were in, never mind their processing tanks! “Well…if I can get them in here it sounds like I’ll have plenty to teach you with.”

“If you can get them in here, I’ll consider that lesson one,” she laughed.

Speak of a devil and one shall appear-

It was then Kaon suddenly burst through the door in much the same manner Ratchet had done just a few minutes ago. Though he was slightly more graceful about it as he did not fall flat on his faceplates. Not long after there was a dull ‘thunk’ against the door, followed by scritching sounds against the metal. Though the red mech had the gall to smile innocently at them both.

"Good morning," he greeted casually though Nickel rolled her optics.

"Kaon you're not fooling anybot in here, what did you do to tick off Vos this time?" 

"Wow, _rude_ you didn't even greet me back," Kaon sneered. Safe in the knowledge that he had successfully magnalocked the doors shut, Kaon moved away from the door and clicked his glossa in a short, rapid staccato. Pet crawled out from its spot under the medberth in response to trot over to the blind mech. Even though Kaon had most of the ships layout memorized, it was still much easier to navigate with Pet leading him. “Besides,” he added nonchalantly, “I didn’t _do_ anything. I learned my lesson last time. Just trying to recharge and the mech went rabid on me!”

However, it didn’t go beyond Kaon’s notice that Ratchet hadn’t acknowledged him in _any_ way. Which was just doubly rude, of course. And that wasn’t something he could abide. The medic was going to have to be taught some manners, apparently. 

Nickel just rolled her optics at the red mech. Even if he was being honest about not trying to piss off Vos he really should have known better. Nickel was newer than him on this ship and even she knew that Vos didn't like to be touched; it made him uncomfortable and, clearly, could make him aggressive. “Listen Kaon, whatever your malfunction with Vos, you’re gonna have to deal with it on your own. I need to leave the medb-!” 

With Pet stalking along beside him, Kaon had sauntered up to the medic. Since the two DJD members had been talking to one another, and Ratchet wanted nothing to do with the furious mech locked out on the otherside of the door, he had actually wandered over to where Nickel indicated their medical files were. He still didn’t have access to his subspace or t-cog, but he could carry their medical files with him and read them later. When he spotted Kaon’s approach he tucked the datafiles and warily turned to face the other- something coding deep reared up, warning him of imminent danger.

Kaon could sense the wariness, the _fear_ , and it egged him on. It had been way too slaggin’ long since their last kill and Kaon was itching for a fight. It would likely explain his goading of Vos too. Fighting and fragging were about the only things he was good at. 

Before so much as ‘Can I help you?’ could leave his lips, Ratchet yowled as familiar, yet as excruciatingly painful as ever, electricity suddenly sparked through his frame. The datapads clattered to the floor and the Pet crouched and growled, ready to attack on its master’s command. 

“Kaon what are you doing?!” Nickel yelped. The red mech ignored her and continued moving towards Ratchet, the medic just barely supporting himself against the side of the cabinet. 

“Pet, stay,” Kaon ordered. He didn’t want to kill Ratchet. At least, not yet. So he couldn’t allow the sparkeater to get involved. Of course, he knew the beast was obedient only up until it decided it wasn’t. Once he was close enough he grabbed one of Ratchet’s arms and wrenched it behind the mechs back, pressing the medic even harder into the cabinet. “Now, Ratchet- is that any way to treat a bot in your medbay? When someone says hi you should _greet them back_.” 

Ratchet winced, his entire frame screaming at him in pain- the strain in his shoulder negligible compared to the electrical damage. His frame wasn’t entirely recovered from yesterday’s jolt. And even though this one hadn’t been nearly as bad, it still fraggin’ hurt. “S-sorry,” he stammered. Not that he thought he had any reason to be sorry for, but you didn’t argue with an unhinged mech. “I thought you- you were just talking to Nickel.”

“Well, you know what they say about making assumptions-” and he pulled harder on the mechs arm, enjoying the groan of pain it elicited.

“KAON! Enough! I will not tolerate this in my medbay! Either take it somewhere else or I’m calling Tarn!” Nickel threatened.

Kaon pulled a face and turned to glower at the small femme. “Don’t you fragging dare pipsqueak.”

“Or you’ll what?” She glared right back. Palms planted firmly on her hips she wheeled forward, unintimidated by the other mech. “This is a place of healing. Period! You wanna break Vos’ toy you better take it somewhere I don’t gotta pick up the mess!” And she didn’t entirely mean Ratchet, either. 

Kaon snarled, knowing he was trapped. Eventually Vos was going to get in here anyway; running to medbay was a dead end in escaping. But, he had been banking on the femmes ‘no fighting’ rule inside it to protect his hide. If Vos got in and saw him beating up his slave, Kaon knew he’d get torn up for it. “Frag all of you! This is all Ratchet’s fault anyway,” he hissed. He shoved the medic into the cabinet one last time before releasing him. “I was supposed to recharge with you last night, but where were you? Hiding in Vos’ room! I had a choice between your ugly mug and his, who did he expect me to pick?” Kaon couldn't care less on how Ratchet felt. Once the DJD found the scavengers he would likely no longer go out of his way to harass the medic. But for now, he was the new toy, the new entertainment.

Though now he was just being a total brat and Nickel had enough. She stormed up to the two mechs and shooed both Kaon and the Pet away from Ratchet. She wasn’t strong enough to catch the mech as he collapsed to the floor, though at least this time he remained wholly cognizant. She crouched beside him, “Ratchet…?” Asking if he was all right would be pretty stupid right now, but she wasn’t sure what else she could do. She wasn’t equipped with inbuilt medical scanners and no way was he in any shape to move-

“How in the frag..is this..my fault?” Ratchet panted. He understood the DJD were deranged psychos. Had to be in order to do the things they did. But at least a little consistency would be appreciated. He seriously didn’t understand where this sudden animosity had come from and he didn’t know how Tarn expected him to function on the ship if the crew were all like this! 

Thankfully before the situation could further escalate, the doors to the medbay slowly slid open as the magnetism finally began to wear off. 

“Uh-oh.”

As soon as the doors opened wide enough, a silver and purple blur darted in between the space. ~What is _wrong_ with you?! First you defile my space and now you're trying to destroy my belongings!?~

Nickel managed to grab Ratchet under the arms and muster the energy to help him limp away from Vos and Kaon as the two collided. Slag she had never seen them flip out so bad! Of course she had never been inside the cell block when they had a still-living victim in there either... Glancing at the chaos around the room for a nanoklik, she looked back to the medic frowning. “How badly are you damaged?”

Well, he hadn’t purged yet, despite his tanks repeated convulsing. And his limbs felt like so much dead weight. But, he was still venting, so, “I’ve had worse.”

“…Though I’m going to definitely have to replace a few relays.” He flexed his digits, “I can move them, but I can’t feel them very well.”

“Primus, when Tarn hears about this he’s gonna be so fragged.” 

Ratchet said nothing. With so many of his systems offline since his capture he couldn’t run a self-diagnostic, but he knew he wasn’t going to be walking out of here of his own volition. “Nnn, Nickel? Do you have a scanner I could use? I’m going to need to do some…hopefully minor self-repairs.”

“Uh, yeah Ratchet. Just hang on a sec.” Kaon and Vos were still fighting, with the sparkeater barking at the duo. It wanted to protect its master, but at the same time the DJD fought each other all the time so without a command from Kaon it just paced around them. Thankfully Nickel didn’t have to get anywhere close for a hand-held scanner.

~We're done here. Get out of the medbay, Kaon~ Vos stated from his position above the other. Both mechs were covered in bleeding cuts, but Kaon had used up some of his energy in electrocuting Ratchet. This gave Vos just enough of an advantage to pin the other to the floor. It also helped that Kaon wasn’t entirely stupid, and wouldn’t dare try to shock his brother.

"...Fine, I don't see a reason to bore myself in here anyways," Kaon gurgled through a mouthful of energon. His lip was split and swollen, and several gashes ran across his face. As soon as Vos was off him, Kaon rolled to his pedes to stomp out the door- whistling for Pet to follow. 

By the time the fight was over, Ratchet had managed to crawl up onto a medberth after finishing the diagnostic. Vos approached, not seeming to notice his own injuries even as energon dribbled on the floor. He knew neither bot understood him, so he just pointed to the scanner, wanting to know what it said.

“Ratchet’s going to need some repairs. We don’t have the parts for the relays in his servos-“ forged medics servos were too delicate or some other such slag, “but together we can get him up and moving at least.”

“Lost the feeling in my limbs. So Nickel will do the work while I instruct here,” Ratchet interjected, his voice rough and full of static. “So, we’ll be in here for a while…” he trailed off when he noticed Vos’ wounds. “Uh, should Nickel tend you first?”

Vos shook his helm; what? These little nicks? They were nothing. Not even Nickel looked concerned by the amount of energon he was bleeding; it all looked worse than it was. Besides, she knew the DJD members were skilled enough to handle their own injuries when it came to their little scuffs. Still, Vos did not look pleased that his new possession had been so badly damaged. He was going to bring up that talk with Tarn, now, so that their entire family was on the same page. With a flick of his claws he bid goodbye to the pair, leaving them to their work.


	6. Chapter 6

When he woke the next morning, Ratchet’s entire frame felt like he’d been punched by Devastator. Working with Nickel to replace the worst of his damaged circuits and other parts had been long and arduous, especially since the minibot didn’t have experience in surgery. She was excellent at superficial injuries, diagnosing problems, and identifying proper medication for a plethora of issues. But she was entirely self-taught and that limited her knowledge of internal systems. So Ratchet had, in effect, given her a rudimentary lesson in describing to her the parts needed and how to access his internals. On top of the fact she needed to numb his frame for the procedures yet had to keep him conscious, resulting in him having to work through the problems with her without being able to feel or diagnose if she messed up. 

Needless to say it was harrowing for both of them. Plus, the Peaceful Tyranny did not have the parts to fully repair his finicky servos. He could move them and feel them, but there was a definite reduction in his dexterity. It was something that deeply angered him, even if he couldn’t show it. As if he didn’t have enough taken from him- never mind the fact his advanced age already rendered his servos painfully inoperable at times already. And even though he’d been repaired to the best of Nickel’s ability and supplies, there was a soreness that still lingered. 

Vos had come back to check up on them last night, but there had been no sign of Tarn. When Nickel asked, Vos had just hissed and assured them that Kaon was being taken care of- whatever that meant. At the moment there was no sign of anyone else in the medbay. With no way to contact anyone either, he glanced over to the monitor that had been attached to him last night. He hadn’t been in critical condition, but Nickel wanted to be sure. The damage on top of his already poor health worried the femme. 

At the moment things were looking…better. His energon readings were now stable, as were his spark rate and pulse pressure. But it was going to take more time for his frame to build up the loss of minerals from his starvation. At least everything looked stable for now.

Even without his chronometer he knew that not even a few minutes passed before Nickel stepped out from the area he presumed to be her room. “Morning Nickel.”

The femme jumped, then quickly glanced over to where he was resting. “Oh, hello Ratchet. I wouldn’t really quantify anything as morning though…How are you feeling?”

“Heh. Habit from Earth. But, yeah. Feel like compacted garbage, how do you think?”

She tsk’d at him, stopping over to grab some energon before heading to him. “Don’t get smart with me,” she said, handing him the cube. He took it gratefully as she added, “I’m sorry about last night though. I know Kaon can be a bit chaotic, but- with how angry Vos already was I hadn’t expected him to do what he did.”

Given the circumstances the most reassuring he could be was to snort and offer her a weak smile. “Don’t apologize. It’s not like it’s _your_ fault. In fact, I should be thanking you. You really did a good job last night…” The two of them shared small, knowing smiles. Ratchet had learned last night that Nickel was about as good at taking compliments as he was. 

Still, “It’s just…I know I’m just a slave, but how am I supposed to survive if any of them can turn on you like that?” He whispered, voice strained even more than just from the static. He was just so frustrated and upset and- He grit his denta. Unexpectedly, he could feel washer fluid beginning to prick at the corners of his optics and he _refused_ to cry, slaggit! He would not show weakness like that, not even in front of Nickel! 

Obviously he wasn’t the only one to deal with such violence as clearly the DJD lashed out at one another. But even without the collar he had no way to defend himself and everything was just starting to build up. Even with what he’d suffered at the compound at least it had been predictable. The guards would degrade them and even hurt them, but their personalities didn’t flip flop all over the place. 

“Well, I just think they’re all a little pent up right now and that Kaon was just looking for trouble. I don’t know. That was one of the worst rows they’ve had in a while.” She shrugged. “Once they find the next list mech things will calm down. Plus, Kaon got in a lot of trouble last night with Tarn so that’ll hopefully keep him off you.” 

Ratchet wanted to ask what kind of trouble, but he decided he didn’t actually care at this point. He just drank his energon, allowing the conversation to drop. There were a few moments of silence before she added, “Erm, anyway…I’m gonna go finish your room up. Vos commed, said he’ll be here soon to see you, so…” 

Ratchet waved goodbye; even though Nickel was alright, he wanted some time on his own. He hadn’t gotten any since coming aboard the ship and just needed some time to decompress, to get his thoughts and emotions together. Honestly he still wasn’t sure what to make of the DJD. Kaon was a menace, but the others? Vos was relatively normal, besides the occasional snippy attitude and his inability to speak normally. But all the others, even Tarn, he didn’t spend enough time around to get a feel for their personalities. Everyone was so deferential to Tarn but besides that single outburst against him, the big mech appeared calm. ‘Don’t think like that,’ he chided himself. Tales abound of the DJD’s cruelty, he couldn’t let his guard down for even a second. 

While waiting for Vos to show up he finished his energon and even ended up taking a nap- more from boredom than being tired. When the medbay doors opened he was still dozing, but the sound was enough to wake him from the light slumber.

Dragging a chair over to the old mech's berthside the sniper rifle sat down and dropped an armful of datapads into Ratchet’s lap.

“Well, hello to you too,” he said wryly, though his mind immediately flashed to the argument from last night. He quickly shook his helm to dispel the thought and picked up one of the datapads to see what it contained. He looked through the datapads, flicking them on and looking through them before going on to the next. He noticed that all the datapads were in primal vernacular, which even though he could understand, he couldn’t speak it or read it. Confused, Ratchet lifted up his servos and asked Vos to explain.

//You teach me language// he signed, unable to communicate ‘neocybex’ through chirolinguistics.

Ratchet blinked; “You want to do that _now_?”

//When else would we? You’re not busy// Vos pointed out. Which okay yes, true, but he was also recovering…Not that Ratchet expected even a modicum of decency from this group. He pulled back long enough to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Right, well…I’m not sure what you expect me to do with these texts? I can’t read them.” He paused a moment and pulled his servo away to stare at the mech contemplatively as a thought occurred to him; “…Is there a reason why you can’t just download neocybex?”

That question apparently struck a nerve; the smaller mech’s optics furrowed and even though it was minute, he tensed. Spindly digits spread wide, making Ratchet realize Vos couldn’t respond unless they laced digits again. 

//No, I cannot download, I am what the old senate made as a 'thing.’ Many things I cannot enjoy or have// he replied, optics leering seriously up at him, //A 'droid.’ Made to entertain. I had no life or freedom//

“You don’t have to say more. I took care of a lot of disposables in Rodion.” Before the war, Ratchet had taken care of a lot of mechs in his free clinic in the slums. He'd been friends with Optimus- at the time Orion- even then. And because of that friendship, Ratchet had once been so close to joining the Decepticons. He'd read Megatronous' work and had been as deeply moved by it as Optimus. But things happened and, well…here he was instead.

His spark hurt thinking about it. He missed Optimus. Ironhide. Wheeljack. The twins. _All_ his friends. He had to grit his denta again to keep from just falling apart. Apparently he hadn’t done such a good job bottling up his emotions earlier as he’d thought. "Even as a drone you should be able to download like any other mech. There must be some sort of issue- most likely a processing error since you can clearly understand it just fine," he found himself speaking, separate from his thoughts. 

~Don't look at me like that, I do not want yours or anybot's pity,~ Vos hissed as his shoulders bristled in warning. Then he remembered the medic didn't understand what he was saying, so he signed it to him. //No, I do not want to be altered. What I am now shows as a reminder of what the old senate once did. I am a testament. Even if oppressed and knocked down... I can still choose my own path.//

A bit hypocritical from Ratchet’s position, but as with most things he kept his mouth shut on that as well. “Okay, it was just an offer,” no need to bite his helm off. “Still doesn’t explain what you want me to do with these datapads though. I’ve never had to manually teach a bot another language before, so there’s that too.”

//Tarn trained me mostly. Before him, Soundwave helped as well// he explained before adding, //Soundwave showed me pictures or objects and told me the word for it until I could say it; Tarn understands and speaks Primal. He can tell me sentences and translate. Those are my datapads. You are smart. Work with Tarn and translate them.//

“Ah. So you’re just here to pick me up then?”

Vos nodded sharply, paused, then shrugged. //Tarn is busy right now. I want to practice before bringing you to him.// He had brought the datapads since once Tarn was done, the other had promised to comm him to bring Ratchet along. But Nickel was busy and Ratchet wasn’t supposed to be without supervision. Vos had meant to come earlier, when she’d commed him, but he’d gotten sidetracked by one of his experiments and lost track of time…Ah well. It didn’t seem like Ratchet had caused any trouble anyway. He didn’t bother asking about the others health either since he knew if here was a major problem, Nickel would have told them. 

“All right. How about you tell me a few words you’d like to know how to learn, and I’ll just say them to you for now? Bypass the pictures and such, at least until these are translated to teach you sentence structures and how to read.”

//Let’s start with your name. I know everyone else’s on the ship//

Oh. Well. Ratchet honestly hadn’t expected that answer and he wasn’t sure if Vos was just being pragmatic (he couldn’t scold or punish Ratchet if Ratchet didn’t understand him, right?) or if he should be a little flattered....And the fact he even thought he ought to be flattered by the purple mech made his face plates scrunch up unpleasantly. 

//Oh, okay. Sure// he signed back. "My name is. Ratchet. Rrrrr-at-chet." He both spoke and signed his name. Repeating it as necessary until Vos got it right.

Since Vos wanted to start out with useful words, over the next half hour Ratchet taught him: energon, injured, hurt, and of course- frag off. For, you know, the next time Kaon started bothering him or something.

That was when Tarn commed Vos, prematurely ending the language lesson. Ratchet indicated he wanted to grab a few more datapads before leaving, and headed over to snag the medical files he’d left out last night. Maybe they might shine a bit of light on his new masters. His frame still ached, but at least he could feel his limbs enough to follow under his own power.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right guys, next week there's going to be a double update. 1.) Because there's a fight scene in the next chapter which I suck at, so 2 updates to apologize for that and 2.) Next week in when things take a 180 turn. All those tags? Yeah, they kick in next week. So no more of this fluffy fun stuff, its all downhill from here. Just as a fair warning. 
> 
> I also finished editing the RP portion of this and have the rest outlined. Looks like this is going to be about 25-30 chapters.

They did not, however, go to Tarn’s room as he had been expecting. While not perfect, he remembered enough to know the way they were going did not lead to Tarn’s personal quarters. Not that it bothered him much, just that it left him curious as to where else he was being shown to. The Peaceful Tyranny was huge, but the more he was shown around, the better. Still, during the walk he carefully thought about what he was going to do with Tarn. He was going to have to be very, very careful not to reveal that he understood primal vernacular. Granted, he actually couldn’t read it very well, but showing that he understood it at all would be a huge mistake.

When they finally reached their destination and the door opened, Ratchet gasped softly. Inside was the largest personal collection of datapads he had ever since, at least since the start of the war. This was no doubt where Vos had expected him to go last night, though knowing that still wouldn’t have helped since he’d had no idea how to get here. 

The room was large and circular, with two floors. The middle of the first had a deep impression in the middle where a two couches bracketed a small table. The impression had two steps inbuilt around the circumference, while the perimeter of the floor was taken up by shelving. To Ratchet’s immediate left was a black, swooping staircase that led to the second level where even more datapads resided. Glancing up, the second level was completely visible, only taking up the outer rim of the room- the middle left open to peer up into reinforced glass into space. 

“Vos, Ratchet, welcome. Hopefully I did not keep you waiting long?” Tarn called down as he leaned against the railing on the upper floor. 

~Of course not Tarn. You’re not busy are you?~ 

The larger mech flicked a servo dismissively; “Not at the moment.” He pulled away from the railing to start languidly making his way back down the stairs, “Though I’ll only have enough time to start translating one of the datapads.” He opticked the stack Ratchet held skeptically; “Certainly not enough to get through all of that, Vos.” 

The sniper rifle scuffed a pede against the floor, ~Keep them until you finish with them. I don’t mind. I’ve read them all a hundred times anyway.~

Tarn settled himself on one of the couches, his attention finally turning to Ratchet. “Very well. When we’re done here I will return Ratchet to you,” then gestured for the medic to come join him. 

Ratchet waited until Vos was gone and the door shut fully before asking, “Vos conveyed to me that you were helping him learn Neocybex before. How come you didn’t start translating these before?” He sat on the same couch as Tarn, but kept ample space between them. He placed Vos’ datapads on the table but kept the medical files tucked against his side.

“It wasn’t any sort of formal education,” he explained. “When we had time between kills I would sit and speak with him, but I did not have the time to dedicate to it fully. Now that the war is over, well…There are still those on the list needing to be taken care of, but we can slow down a bit now. Savor it.” He smiled behind his mask. “There will always be those who displease Megatron or worlds to conquer. But now, if we wish to pursue other interests, it will not reflect badly on us.”

He picked up one of the datapads from the table and thumbed it on, “Once I decipher these, you will dedicate your time to teaching.”

"Well..I know a few words in Primal Vernacular," Ratchet admitted. When Tarn turned to look at him he hastily added, “Afterall, many medical terms use Primal Vernacular as their root,” the old language serving a similar purpose as Latin for Earthen scientific and medical names. "However, I can't read full sentences and I certainly don’t have a comprehensive vocabulary." If they needed a comparison, Ratchet was claiming his skill with primal vernacular was about the same as Vos' with Neocybex, though even less since he wasn’t claiming to understand what Vos was saying at all.

That seemed to appease Tarn as the mech went back to reading through the datapad. “Hm. So do you think you can help with translating?”

“Not at all,” so he wasn’t entirely sure why he was here again. Why not just give Tarn the datapads and once they were done being translated, then they could start the complex lessons? It wasn’t as if Vos and he couldn’t continue in the same vein as they had in the medbay. “However, I was hoping that while you translated you could keep the original Primal Vernacular available as well? That way Vos can follow along in both languages.”

It wasn’t as if Tarn had any better ideas on how to teach a mech a language so he altered the datapads template to allow two pages to be seen at once, allowing the original Primal to be read alongside the Neocybex. When Tarn demanded nothing further of him, Ratchet pulled out the medical files to begin reading and the two of them settled into an amicable sort of silence. 

Thanks to Nickel’s heads up, he wasn’t surprised to read that the lot of them were addicted to Nuke and the associated side effects to be expected from that. Every bot handled Nuke differently: Tarn was prone to fits of violent rages, Helex became drowsy, Tesarus was also violent, Vos reacted most by becoming hyperactive and Kaon was apparently randy while high. Ratchet could have done without knowing that last bit. Nickle also noted deteriorated lines, slower reflexes over time, and other physical manifestations of their addictions that she was unable to fully treat with her current level of knowledge. 

What surprised the medic the most, however, was the knowledge that Kaon was cold constructed yet none of the other DJD members were. Unsurprisingly, the rest of them were all forged, rather than kindled. The process of creating life between two Cybertronians had been considered vulgar even before the last Golden Age. Even cold constructed mechs were seen as superior to kindled bots, since the process of kindling was so similar to organic reproduction. As it was though, kindling was about the only way their kind could procreate now that Cybertron had stopped producing hotspots and the art of spark splitting was lost with Sentinel. It was also interesting to note that Tarn was addicted to transforming as well, was a point-one-percenter, and that he had a spark gift; though the latter was largely known already. His reputation for singing mechs to death was the most infamous part of the DJDs reputation. 

Surprisingly, it was Tarn who broke the silence first, “You know, I’m rather surprised you haven’t asked after your fellow Autobots.”

Ratchet glanced up from Helex’s medical report to find the tank staring down at him. Tarn was hard to read as it was because of the mask, but now even his optics were blank. “You mean the ones being raped and beaten by their new masters?” He answered nastily. 

“I mean the ones who escaped.” 

Ratchet’s vents caught. He still couldn’t read Tarn. If the other was angry with his quip he had no tells. And yet, Ratchet had been laboring under the assumption all or if not most of the Autobots were already killed or captured. Underneath it all was suspicion- why was Tarn suddenly bringing this up? Seemingly out of nowhere? “I- what do you mean?”

The datapads were forgotten. Both mechs had their attention completely attuned to one another. “Surely you didn’t think _every_ Autobot in existence has been captured already?” Tarn knew of every single Decepticon in existence, no matter how small or insignificant they were in the grand scheme of things. He had never dedicated that much processing power to learning about the Autobots, but after last night’s meeting with his brothers, Tarn had decided to do a bit of research. He smirked; “There are a few here and there still scattered about the cosmos. But- the bots you left behind on Cybertron, when you went to fight on Earth. What do you think happened to them?”

He enjoyed watching the medic’s optics pale and mouth parted in a mix of terror and hope. “…Are you saying they escaped?” Blue optics narrowed at him. “Why are you mentioning this, Tarn?”

The suspicion was anticipated. The purple mech affected his most convincing, sympathetic tone, “I told you Ratchet. While I don’t wish to fill your helm with certain expectations, you’re not a slave. Not an equal, but…In any case, Kaon’s behavior towards you was unacceptable last night. Consider the information a bit of a peace offering.” He also knew the information would taunt the medic with the hope of escape. It wouldn’t happen. Especially not now, not with their plans. They would not easily let Ratchet go. But giving a bot hope was a tool to later crush their spirits. 

“Are they all still alive?” Ratchet’s optics brightened and Tarn noticed the way the other subtly shifted closer, eager- no, desperate- for an answer. 

He held up a single digit and wagged it at the medic. “Ah, ah. I’m not in _that_ generous of a mood. But tell you what- I’ll let you ask about _one _mech. So choose wisely.”__

__Just one? Ratchet gritted his denta. Asking him to pick only one bot to ask about was essentially asking him to pick the mech most important to him- and Ratchet didn’t doubt for a second that such an aft move was purposeful. However, it really wasn’t as hard as Tarn might have thought. Almost all of his closest friends had died on Earth and he already knew Jazz was probably a slave. The only bot alive he could think of was, “Wheeljack.”_ _

__Tarn nodded. It was much easier to get the information he wanted than expected. “Yes, he’s still alive.”_ _

__Ratchet audibly sighed in relief when he heard Wheeljack was alive. The old mech was filled with so much grief, but even that little bit of news seemed to perk him up a bit. Knowing his brother was alive and still a free mech gave his spark a flicker of hope. “...Do you plan on killing or capturing them eventually?”_ _

__That finally garnered a readable reaction. Tarn paused- then had the nerve to actually laugh at him! “Capturing or killing? That has to be one of the _oddest_ questions somebot has asked me... We don't really do 'captures'," though he looked to the wall briefly before looking back to the datapad and adding, "but I do have eventual plans with the Lost Light... I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see what they are though, Ratchet..."_ _

__As if that didn’t sound ominous; "W-well, I mean, Megatron did say he wanted more Autobots captured. So I wasn't sure if you would follow through with that," the medic justified his question. He knew Tarn wasn't a huge fan of the whole slavery thing, and he knew the other had no qualms about ruthlessly murdering bots either- but he also knew how loyal the DJD were the Megatron. So even though it wasn't an order that all Autobots be caught and not killed, he had wondered if the DJD would obey that regardless._ _

__It was probably unwise to tell Tarn what Megatron said or didn't say— which was likely clear when he shot a ticked off look at the medic. "I am well aware of what Megatron said considering I was speaking with him just before Vos and Kaon brought you onto our ship," he said though he did not push the matter further. He didn't want to give the medic spoilers for what was in store for him after all._ _

__Ratchet swallowed thickly, and decided that he really didn’t want to know anything else. If Kaon were in the room the sick frag would probably enjoy seeing just how depressed and hurt the Autobot was feeling. Knowing he would likely be there with Tarn for a while, Ratchet shifted about on the couch and laid down. It was still incredibly weird for him, but what else was there to do? He didn’t want to bother Tarn and irritate him, and he already finished reading their medical files, as skimpy as they’d been._ _

__So he curled up on his side and hid his face in the arm of the couch, the poor old mech seeking comfort from an inanimate object. Though he was careful to keep his legs tucked up close to his chest so they never touched the other mech. So there were Autobots still out there, but no doubt Tarn’s ‘plans’ included seeking them out to kill them. His Amica and Conjunx were already long dead. The glimmer of hope to escape was better now, knowing there was a whole ship full of Autobots out there, somewhere, but how could he ever find them? And if he did escape, Tarn must surely already know where they are. Why the mech wasn’t already going after them he couldn’t fathom- unless Megatron already knew? The thoughts just kept swirling and swirling in his processor._ _

__Having gotten what he wanted from the Autobot, Tarn went back to translating the datapad. At least, he tried. It was hard not to notice the old mech burying his face to ‘hide.’ Oh for Primus' sake he wasn't going to sob on the couch was he..? Luckily Ratchet couldn't see his optics soften as he looked at him sympathetically. It was hard to lose bots you were close too, he knew this through every DJD member he had lost through the years. It wasn’t that crying really bothered him- he’d seen his fair share of victims sobbing at them to stop- he just wasn’t sure how to get a bot to _stop_ crying without ripping out their vocalizer. So he had to think of a way to pre-emptively halt it-_ _

___“To everything there is a season;_  
A time to be born and a time to die,  
A time to plant and a time to pluck what is planted  
A time to kill and a time to heal  
A time to break down and a time to build up  
A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones  
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing  
A time to gain and a time to lose  
A time to keep and a time to cast away  
A time to tear and a time to sew  
A time to keep silence and a time to speak  
A time of love and a time of hate  
A time of war and a time of peace*” 

__When he finished he was still watching Ratchet. The point was to try and get the mech to stop sulking; it probably helped that Tarn utilized his spark gift to try and shift Ratchet’s mood. He couldn’t magically make the other happy, but he could lessen the burden on the bots spark._ _

__Well, Ratchet hadn’t been crying, but he did pull away from the couch to stare at Tarn with obvious confusion in his optics. Who the frag just suddenly busted out in random bits of poetry? Though about halfway through the poem, Ratchet's spark did start to feel a little lighter...It was so subtle that he barely even noticed it. He still felt sad, of course, but it was becoming more bearable. He knew about Tarns spark gift from his medical file, but it was so subtle at the moment that he didn’t even think about it._ _

__When Tarn was done, Ratchet was still staring at him oddly. What had been the point of that? Because he certainly didn’t think the mech actually cared about how he _felt_. "Erm, that was nice..." He finally gave after a moment, feeling like he was expected to say something about it. "I never would have taken you for a poetry kind of mech." Though now that he mentioned it, he did recall seeing several literature pads lining the mechs shelf in his quarters._ _

__Now, normally Tarn didn’t react in such a way. The only times he sang or recited anything was when he was finishing off prey. Or when he needed to ease the passing of one of the other DJD members. He was the only Tarn to have ever existed, but many other Kaon’s, Vos’, Tesarus’ and Helex’s came before the ones he worked with now. And no matter what anyone else might think, he was not an unfeeling brute. Not that he felt the need to mention any of this to the Autobot though. "Not many do," Tarn admitted still watching the medic, "I've been interested in literature for a long time though, it gives a lot of wisdom and insight into many different things— tell me, did you understand the meaning behind the poem, Ratchet?"_ _

__The longer Tarn looked at him, the more uncomfortable Ratchet became. His digits gripped the couch cushion. "Besides the obvious 'there's a time and place for everything' and that it sounds like its talking about destiny- not really, no," Ratchet admitted. "I've never really been that into poetry. I like listening to it well enough, but I don’t go out of my way to seek it." He paused for a moment, before slowly adding; "...It didn’t sound like it was Cybertronian in origin though." Without realizing it he was falling right into Tarn’s servo- the pleasant, if odd, change in topic forced him to focus his attention outward instead of inward, where all the pain festered._ _

__“Indeed Ratchet, very astute. For a bot who professes not to understand it, you understood the poem quite well,” the corners of his optics crinkled up, amused by the medic’s observations; “It is actually of human origin; with the war there was a dearth of poets and writers so... I began to branch into different cultures..." Though he knew that one day, they would be dead as one goal Megatron held was destroying all organic life. Perhaps a bit far-fetched, but he tried not to question Megatron and he knew there was plenty of organics who hated and loathed their kind. Besides there was certainly no denying their superiority as a species, and they would need all the resources they could get to continue rebuilding their home to its former glory. Not to mention the ‘milking the flesh’ project, as repugnant as he found it._ _

__Funny how Ratchet had just been thinking of Earth. Even though no one has directly told him as much, with the Autobots defeat he knew Earth was already conquered or nearly there. In a way it saddened him to know an entire species was wiped out, but with all the personal loss he suffered it was difficult to spare any true grief for the planet- especially given how they had needed to live in fear of discovery despite their attempts to save the planet. "Earth had some beautiful orchestral music. Not much of a fan for the rest of it though," he gave softly, the medic unsure if Tarn wished to keep the conversation going or if he wanted to work in peace. He was honestly a little interested. It was so hard to believe a mech like him would have such cultured tastes. Of course, even though he was homicidal maniac, he had to have some normal interests, right? “With the war over, have you gone through the Iaconian archives? There are some old texts in there, from even pre-golden age artists.” Since Megatron ruled now, no doubt the access to those ‘precious’ texts would not be restricted to Tarn if he so desired to read them. “Though I bet I can guess who your favorite artist is,” he gave shrewdly, seeing if he could get away with teasing the other._ _

__Tarn was willing to continue the subject, as he could handle multitasking well. Talking and translating did little to slow him down, though the leader did double check a few times to make sure he didn't put down what he was saying instead of the translation. "Seems we share a common taste in melody," he noted before adding, "I prefer instrumental pieces over vocal... orchestral tends to be the most labyrinth of the instrumental pieces they have; so when done correctly, it has a serene beauty to it..."_ _

__He hummed at his question and sighed softly, "Unfortunately the news of the war's end came to us a bit late so I've not had the chance though it would be something I'd consider doing." Just because they were a special force under Megatron's command didn't mean they were often ordered around. In fact, they were one of the only groups fully trusted to work independently for the Decepticon cause. Tarn glanced up a moment curiously at Ratchet. For a second he didn't get it was meant to be a _joke._ But once he did, the larger mech smirked, "I don't doubt it, but what are you going to bet?" he played along._ _

__This whole conversation was suddenly so surreal. On one servo, he was still upset. Why wouldn’t he be? It was natural. And yet, there was a lightness in his spark. A sense that talking to Tarn was…natural? The conversation was jumping all over the place but he still felt a sense of calm. Perhaps it was because Tarn was the first mech to hold an actual conversation with him in…Primus, who knows how long? Sure, Nickel and Vos treated him all right, but they didn’t exactly have titillating conversations. He clicked his glossa and rolled with it, propping himself up on an elbow to grin slyly at the purple mech; "Well, Megatron of course. Though between you and me, I wasn't a fan of his poetry. Towards Peace was much better..."_ _

__It didn’t surprise Tarn that Ratchet had read Towards Peace. Many bots had, regardless of whether they joined the cause or not. Still, he was curious as what Ratchet truly thought about it. "Towards Peace was a book he poured his spark into, and it could be felt through the words written inside," the DJD leader stated, "it changed a lot of Cybertronians views and rallied those who felt weak and helpless. It doesn't surprise me that you find that piece to be his best... Simply because it was."_ _

__The old mech plucked at the couch with his free servo, the other still propping him up on the couch. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, expression pensive as he considered what to say to that. Talking about Megatron, he knew, was a risky gamble especially with the DJD leader. His attempt at further lightening the mood went a bit sideways; all he could do was try and ensure he didn’t upset the other. Finally Ratchet gave a weary sigh; "I know. I wasn't in Kaon, but I _was_ in Rodion when the movement first started." Rodion being another city full of impoverished mechs. "I saw what he inspired..." He plucked at the couch some more; "Had things gone a little differently, I certainly wouldn't be in this situation, thats for sure.” Though whether that would be better or worse he wasn’t sure. Had he joined the Decepticons surely he would have defected, and thus would have ended up on the DJDs list. So by now he would have been dead, so maybe- he tried not to flinch as the suicide chip buzzed angrily in his helm, cutting off his thoughts._ _

__Right. No point in considering ‘could have been’-s. And anyway he had already decided that dying by _their_ servos was not in his best interest. _ _

__To know that Ratchet had been in Rodion was a tad unexpected. An Iaconian trained medic, out in the slums? _And_ reading Megatron’s works? It was intriguing to say the least. "It wasn't until the senate was destroyed that Megatron and Soundwave approached me, hearing about my 'gift', and offering me to take part in the revolution. I initially didn’t accept their offer actually, but over time I saw the wisdom in Megatron’s words," Tarn stated before bringing up the question, "but why were you in Rodion? Iacon was renown to prize their medics. I can’t imagine they’d let you sully your servos healing the so-called filth that lived there."_ _

__The older mech chuckled mirthlessly and glared at a spot just beyond Tarn's shoulder when the other inevitably asked him about Rodion. Ratchet had expected it, but he wasn’t sure how to talk about it without possibly angering the other. So instead he started with; "...You know about Shockwave, right? How he used to be a Senator before the empurata and shadowplay? And the reason for it was because of his outspokenness against the corruption?"_ _

__"...Well, I was in a similar position."_ _

__"I wasn’t a senator, but I had a lot of prestige and credits and used it to try and fight, and fix things." He shrugged again. "After what happened to Shockwave, I withdrew everything from my bank account and fled to Rodion where I opened up a free clinic." Where he'd met Drift. And where Orion would come visit him and tell him all about Megatron. "...A lot of mechs talked about Megatronous back then."_ _

__Of course Tarn knew Shockwave- who didn’t? He was considered one of the ‘Big Three.’ Besides Megatron himself, Soundwave, Starscream, and Shockwave all constituted the most powerful and influential Decepticons. Though Tarn itched to be rid of Starscream, it was not meant to be. Only Megatron could order that and ever since Starscream’s successful destruction of Optimus Prime as well as leading the successful campaign against Earth, the seeker was enjoying much more respect amidst the Decepticons. Now more than ever Megatron had to be careful with the SiC, as Starscream was too admired to be rid of completely, yet that also made him more of a threat than ever._ _

__Not that such thoughts were currently relevant; Tarn listened silently as Ratchet explained his reasons for being in Rodion. So, the medic already had some of the Decepticon’s beliefs in him. If Tarn hadn’t also known about Shockwave’s former association with the Prime, he would have wondered why Ratchet never became a Decepticon. “I see,” was all he said in response to that. There was a pause, then, “You are full of surprises Ratchet. Most other mechs would have been content to sit on their credits, uncaring of those suffering so far away from them.”_ _

__“Well, that was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it?” As if things were any better now. Except unlike the Senate, Megatron didn’t try to hide the slavery or inequality._ _

__Rather than get into a political debate with the medic, Tarn cocked his helm away from the other, his optics briefly dimming. Ratchet recognized a mech in the middle of a comm call. If it weren’t for the mask, Ratchet figured Tarn would be simple to read._ _

__“Hmm,” Tarn glanced back towards Ratchet. “Apparently we’re going to be landing soon. Tell me Ratchet- what do you know of the dinobots? And don’t lie. We’re aware you helped make them.”__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Based on Ecclesiastes 3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rusted squealing noise as I pry this out of my own hands to post* So here's the fight scene. Also, this is where the mix-mash of continuity comes in as Grimlock is not a sentient mech in this fic.

Ratchet’s face immediately blanched of color. The dinobots? What did Tarn want to know about them for? Better yet, _how_ did he know about them in the first place? He and Wheeljack had built the artificial AI during their three years of hiding on Earth. They were meant to bolster the Autobots ranks in case the Decepticons came back. They nearly had their afts kicked by Sixshot before the mech went rogue. Not that they had the technology to match a phase sixer, but the group of five AIs had been built to match Decepticon brutality in a way most Autobots couldn’t or wouldn’t. Alas, the dinobots went AWOL and were captured by the humans after destroying several major metropolitan areas. Ratchet hadn’t heard from or seen any of them since. 

“How…how do you know about the dinobots?” he asked shakily. 

Tarn shook his helm; “Now, Ratchet, that really doesn’t answer _my_ question, now does it?” And Ratchet was suddenly reminded of the mechs ability. It wasn’t agonizing, but there was still a sudden, sharp pain that tugged his spark on Tarn’s emphasis. 

The old mech gasped and curled forward, one arm tucked under his bumper as if that could alieve the pain. “I- I don’t… what do you want to know? They’re just…AI. Intelligent for computers, but not compared to us. They were built for power and endurance.” He peered up at the other, the first inklings of true fear of this mech settling in his struts. Kaon and even Vos’ lashing out were manageable in a sense. You couldn’t predict what would set them off, but you could still see or sense it coming. Tarn…Tarn didn’t lift a digit and yet he still ached in a place that had never hurt in such a way before. 

“There, was that so hard?” And just like that, the pain suffusing Ratchet’s frame was just…gone. 

Tarn stood from the couch, then held a servo out for Ratchet, knowing the other might be unsteady from the spark assault. “Come, I will bring you to the medbay. We’ll be busy for a while so you’ll need to remain there.” 

For a moment, Ratchet just stared at the servo. He contemplated refusing it, even smacking it out of his face, but did he really want to bring more suffering upon himself? His spark emphatically throbbed ‘NO’ at him. 

So he gathered up their medical datapads under one arm- leaving the others on the table for Tarn to deal with- and took the offered help up.

The walk back to medbay was silent- only the sounds of their pedes echoing through the halls could be heard. Again, Ratchet was struck by the lack of activity aboard the ship. Once they reached the medbay though, Tarn prevented the doors from closing behind Ratchet as he spoke, “As for your earlier question, Ratchet- Soundwave discovered your dinobots lying dormant in a human facility. I don’t know the details, but I do know they were given to Shockwave as a little _present_. So imagine our surprise to find one all the way out here.” 

“Well. I’ll see you in a bit. Do behave.” And with that, Tarn allowed the doors to close, leaving the medic to process yet another blow on his own.  
***

When the DJD landed, they of course caught the Scavengers unawares. The little group of nobodies never expected to be targets of the fierce traitor hunters. Even with Fulcrum in their little group. Especially since it wasn’t like he'd been with them that long! Even though Krok had tried reasoning with Tarn, well- 

It wasn’t difficult to imagine how that went. 

Perhaps the DJD might have been lenient with the group, had they been willing to hand over the traitor without question. But in trying to advocate for his life, well, that was a notion that had to be disavowed. 

It was pathetic, really, how easy it was to tear through the traitors. Krok was taken out first, since he'd been stupid enough to approach. Surprisingly enough, instead of fleeing like most would have, the little fools had tried to stay and save their leader. Flywheels was next. It would have been laughable- if the mechs' screams hadn't woken up Grimlock. 

While in the middle of torturing the two mechs and attempting to capture the others, the large T-Rex mech finally made his appearance. He was heard before he was seen, his frame crashing through a large pile of rubbish with a mighty roar and spout of flame directed at Kaon. Pet had kept Flywheels pinned to the ground while Kaon slowly ripped the mechs glossa out and sent electricity running through the mech vis his hold. The warning sounds of Grimlock’s charge had Pet skittering away instinctively. Kaon had just enough time to stand and whip around before getting blasted by the flames. Electricity was still sparking through his coils when it happened- catching all three mechs in the explosion.

Both the Decepticons went flying. Due to the damage he had already received, Flywheels did so in several pieces, most of which went in different directions. Kaon, however, sailed backwards towards Helex, his paint almost completely scorched off except for a few stubborn splotches. Grimlock didn’t so much as flinch. His snout was slightly charred, but otherwise unharmed. The T-Rex roared and charged after the inured DJD member. 

Helex didn’t have a chance to check on Kaon before the beast charged him, forcing him to dodge to the side with a curse. And none of the other DJD members had anything similar Kaon’s ability to read sparks, so they couldn’t tell if he was dead or not. 

_No_. 

Tarn was not going to lose another brother. Not again! Not to something like an AI of all things! Of course as soon as Grimlock had made himself known, Vos, Tesarus, and Tarn abandoned their respective prey. The remaining Scavengers weren’t dead, yet, but they certainly weren’t going anywhere. 

Tarn rushed in to distract Grimlock; Helex was managing to hold him off, but he couldn’t do so for long on his own, never mind while trying to protect Kaon as well. With Tess’ help he grabbed the dinobots tail to drag him away. They began to feed the end of the tail into Tess’ grinder. Helex had been using all four arms to hold Grimclock’s mouth shut. But as soon as the others started to drag him away he let go; Grimlock bellowed in pain as his tail was shredded. The dinobot snapped his helm around to blast flames at the duo. The attack was anticipated though. Tarn had let go of the tail, allowing Tesarus to feed it through on his own; he held Vos and the moment the other whipped around, he shot through the bots optic before he could attack. Grimlock bellowed again, but still did not go down. 

“Watch out, he’s transforming!” Tarn warned. Given his proclivity for transforming, he would recognize that sound anywhere. Given how large Grimlock was- being even bigger than Tarn- there was the risk they could be knocked over or damaged from the transformation sequence. It forced the DJD members away from the bot, but not enough. Grimlock had been programmed to fight and was made to take down bots like Sixshot- but never alone. 

It would be so much easier if they could just kill Grimlock. But the priority was to capture Grimlock, no matter how much Tarn felt the need to rip the mech to shreds. He was Shockwave’s property, regardless of how he came to be with this motley crew. The DJD needed to capture and return him to his rightful place. 

Grimlock managed to cut off both of Helex’s right arms and stabbed through Tess’ chest with his flaming sword. But, in the end, his defeat was inevitable. 

Vos leapt onto the mechs back and climbed him like a jungle gym while he grappled with Tarn. His needle sharp claws reached around from behind to claw at Grimlock’s optics. The distraction allowed Tess to grab one arm while Tarn grabbed the other and forced them both behind his back. “Enough,” Tarn hissed, though his spark gift did nothing to a bot without one. Grimlock responded by thrashing in their grasps and nearly knocked them over.

They ended up having to bash the back of his helm in, in order to knock him out. Tarn wasn’t sure how badly that damaged him but at this point didn’t care. He and Vos were the only ones left uninjured. “Helex, grab Kaon. Tess?” Helex was hurting, but he still had two servos, one to carry his torn off limbs and another to hold Kaon over his shoulder. But he was unsure how bad Tess’ chest wound was. 

“Yeah…I’m fine boss,” the tan mech gurgled. “Lets just get this over with.” Vos was too small to be of any use so while the two larger DJD members dragged Grimlock back to the ship, Vos scampered just behind Helex with the Pet.  
***  
The DJD were gone for hours. Which meant Ratchet spent the entire time agonizing over the dinobot’s fate. True, they were only AI- super intelligent computers, really- but he still felt incredibly guilty for not once thinking about them or their fate this entire time. To know they were now being experimented on by Shockwave? He couldn’t fathom what that sick frag was doing to them. 

Which one had managed to escape? What were the DJD doing to him now? Or the other mechs he was apparently with, according to Nickel. The femme had tried to offer comfort but he did not want a stranger or one of his captors touching him or intruding on his moment of weakness. Yet it was her medbay first and he needed somebot watching him at all times anyway so he couldn’t ask her to leave even though he wanted to.

The sound of pedesteps paused Ratchet’s pacing. Both bots looked to the door- it squealed open to admit Vos and the Pet. The sparkeater’s ears were flat to its helm, tail tucked between its legs, and it kept whining piteously. Vos kept the door open to admit Helex. Nickel gasped.

"Nickel help me prep for surgery; I still haven’t learned where everything is yet!" Ratchet demanded, the older bot snapping into medic mode and thus not caring he was ordering around the femme. He cleared off the closest berth and began setting up an IV. "Put him here, now!" Ratchet snapped once Helex entered, not even giving the mech a chance to explain what had happened, the older bot scanning the limp form in his arms. He didn't so much as twitch when he saw it was Kaon and impatiently gestured to the berth for Helex to put him down on.

Helex did as he was told without an iota of protest. The one good thing, he supposed, was that Grimlock’s flaming sword cauterized his stumps rather than igniting the energon. He wasn’t going to question his good fortune at the moment- he could be in similar shape as Kaon after all. 

Ratchet’s optics were sharp, calculating, as they roved over Kaon’s frame. He needed to wait until Nickel gave him a hand held scanner, but he was experienced enough to catalog the visible damage while also guessing at what Kaon’s internals were like. He wasn't Ratchet the Autobot right now; he was running on a mix of medical and war coding which shunted his emotions to the side, allowing him to work on friends (and in this case, enemies) without his emotional state compromising him. He set up two IVs, one with coolant and one with an energon/sedative mix to keep Kaon from waking up in the middle of the surgery. Then- then his servos practically flew over the mech. He reached under the melted slag that was Kaon's armor and found the micro latches that kept it attached to his frame and either unlatched them or, if they were too melted down for that, he'd simply rip it off. The metal was slagged anyway so no need to be gentle about it. He yanked the melted metal off in order to access Kaons internals. He patched torn lines, swapped out completely blown ones, prevented electrical shortages or mechanical fires from occurring if any of the sparks and energon mixed.

He was tangentially aware of the fact that, at some point Tesarus came in and Vos left. And that once Nickel finished carrying over supplies, she started working on the others. She didn’t have the skill to re-attach Helex’s arms or repair Tess’ chest would, but she did give Helex some pain meds and made sure Tess didn’t have any internal bleeds that the sword might not have cauterized. All things Ratchet noted, but shunted aside to worry about later. For now, he had a patient whose very life was on the brink. 

Of course, he could kill Kaon. He no longer had the control collar on. Just the suicide chip, but that would only shock him if he thought of trying to kill himself. Nothing could stop him if he tried- all he’d have to do was say that Kaon was simply too injured, that what he’d done hadn’t been enough. If Kaon died under his servos though, they’d suspect. What’s more, he didn’t know if Nickel would know enough to identify foul play. 

At the moment Kaon was damaged beyond what Ratchet could repair. He managed to stabilize the other, but, "We're still planetside, correct? I hope you didnt shred up your victims too badly. Kaon needs some replacement parts," he gave in a monotone. "Bring a corpse aboard so I can strip him for parts." What needed to be replaced he temp patched. It would take him a while to strip the corpse(s) so the patches would last Kaon a few days so long as he took it easy.

No one moved though Helex did comm Vos with Ratchet’s request. Tarn would have been better since he’d more easily carry one of the corpses, but Tarn was currently in a….mood and should not be bothered. 

In all honesty Ratchet couldn’t give a frag about Kaon. But with the mood in the room, he knew better than to demand to see the dinobot they caught. Better to get in their good graces now and ask later, when it was more appropriate. So he’d strip the dead mech for parts- not like it would be the first time he’d done such a thing- get the parts soaking in solution, then repair Kaon at his leisure. For now he covered the other with a warming blanket to keep the others non-armored parts protected.

“So…Kaon will live?” Nickel asked hesitantly.

“Yes. He will be fine. He’ll need to take it easy for a while though, of course,” Ratchet was washing off his servos in the sink as he spoke. “I can tend to whoever’s next,” he offered as he turned back around. 

Tesarus’ chest wound was more serious than Helex’s missing limbs. While he was working, Vos came back in, dragging over Crankcase’s frame. He was the one Vos had been tormenting so the lithe mech knew he was mostly intact. Missing legs and torn out optics had caused the bot to bleed to death. Vos had barely even gotten any fun out of him either!

When he got into the room he dragged the corpse over to Ratchet and silently stared at him before looking at Kaon. In his helm he tried to guess how bad it was and if he'd be fine or not. They had killed and tortured enough Cybertronians to get a good feel for if they could survive or not. Furthermore while Vos didn't have any subjects aboard currently, he like to test the limits of Cybertronians in his lab.

~Was that all Ratchet required?~ Vos asked tilting his helm up at Helex, since he was currently the only one in the room still conscious that could understand him.

Helex shrugged. "Ratchet," he spoke up, gaining the medics attention. "Thats all?" the mech keeping his sentences short and to the point as he directed the medics gaze to the corpse. 

"Yes, good. Thats all I need." He pulled away from Tesarus and wiped his servos off. "As I said, he'll live. Kaon also needs new armor though. Im not sure if you have anything like that on board or if we'll need to stop and get him a new custom set."

“Hnn…We’ll need to stop. We can ask Tarn. _Later_ <” Helex said. There was always Delphi- the medical facility still had plenty of useful supplies to be scavenged. Surely they could find replacement armor for Kaon there. Helex didn’t mention it right now because of Ratchet, not to mention the foul mood the group was already in- mentioning that place would just rile everyone up.

“Speaking of which…where is Tarn?” Ratchet finally asked. Helex and Vos shared a _look_.

“…In the holding cells.” Granted, they hardly ever used them since, as Tarn had explained, they never really took captives or prisoners. But you couldn’t have a warship without one. Plus, sometimes they liked to take prey with them to play with for longer and Nickel always complained when they made too much of a mess. The holding cells, at least, she never went down into so they didn’t have to worry about that. 

Even though he had figured thats where Tarn was, he still blanched at the idea that the mech was still down there with the dinobot- he still wasn’t sure which one! Helex and Tess were being strangely tight lipped about the planet side encounter. 

“Please- I know have to finish here, but please let me see…Which dinobot was it anyway?” He asked, the medic unable to hide his anxiety. It didn’t matter who it was. AI they might be, but the dinobots were still capable of feeling. And if Tarn was still down there with them, Ratchet had no illusions about the horrors being inflicted on the poor creature. It would still be hours yet before he was done with Helex and stripping Crankcase so there was nothing he could do to halt the torture either, but…but…!

~Well, I don’t see why not. Not that he’ll like what he sees down there~ Vos sighed. He had been down there until Helex commed him, helping Tarn vent his frustrations upon the dinobot. They would not kill it, but Tarn was a maestro of pain. Yet, he was aware that the dinobots were Ratchet’s ‘creations’ of sorts and so far, the medic had been so obedient and good. He wasn’t really capable of empathy, but he understood intellectually that the other bot was hurting, and it sort of made him…uncomfortable? ~Tell Ratchet that once he finishes I will take him.~ Given a little more time, he might also comm. Tarn to ease off a bit as well. 

“Grimlock will live. But Vos will take you only once the work is done,” Helex said. 

It was all the reassurance Ratchet would get. Knowing that time was of the essence he worked as quickly as possible to finish up Tess’ repairs, then moved on to Helex. Even so, such work was meticulous and took hours to complete. Yet the longer it took, the more desperate and visibly upset he became. 

“Ratchet- just go,” Nickel finally said. “You wouldn’t have had time to put the new parts in Kaon tonight anyway. Go see this ‘Grimlock’ and you can finish Kaon tomorrow.” She was more than capable of keeping an optic on Tesarus and Helex- the two mechs resting through light sedatives to help them recover from their surgeries. “Besides we don’t want you messing up now do we?”

Honestly Vos thought it was a terrible idea- letting Ratchet see Grimlock now would only upset the other worse and thus unable to finish Kaon’s repairs. Still, it was true that the medic had been at it for a long time and he looked absolutely exhausted. It was easy to forget he was still recovering from extreme malnourishment. 

When Ratchet looked to him with hope, Vos dashed it with a sharp shake of his helm. He held up his servos to quickly explain, //Tarn has finished for the night already and retired to recharge. You finish Kaon first. Then I’ll take you tomorrow.//

“But- you said tonight!”

//No. I said once you were done! So finish your work.//

Ratchet’s face contorted angrily. “…If Nickel helps me disassemble that mech I’m sure I can at least get the parts ready for tomorrow,” he said, voice sharp as ice shards. 

To be fair, this was the most serious any of their injuries had ever been. Not including former members who died. While Vos knew how long it took to kill a bot, he hadn’t realized it would take so long for Ratchet to patch up Helex and Tess. Breaking things was much easier than fixing them. //I’ll come back in the morning// was all he said before excusing himself to let them work.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder this is a double update so be sure you've read the previous one! This means no update next week though [which works out anyway as I have a school project to be working on]
> 
> ALSO: *points to ALL the warnings* Fic takes a bit of a 180 turn here. And the pacing gets kicked up a notch here on in.

When Vos returned, Ratchet was already awake. Though based on how the medic looked a more accurate assumption would be that he never recharged. 

“Kaon’s repairs are complete. As complete as they can be without replacement armor, at least,” he said in lieu of greeting the sniper. “Can I see Grimlock now or what?” Indeed, the lack of recharge on top of his overwhelming anxiety about Grimlock’s current state made him even more waspish than usual. 

Vos growled, not appreciating the others tone. Allowing him to see Grimlock was a privilege, not a right. The sniper rifle crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the other with narrowed optics. 

Ratchet glared back, servos balling into fists at his side- but then he vented, and some of the tension left his frame as his shoulders sagged in defeat. There was no place for pride or stubbornness right now. Even though he had been assured Grimlock would not be killed, the longer they dawdled was more time the other spent in agony. “…I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. Can we please go see him now?” 

Vos accepted the apology, for now. He motioned for Ratchet to follow, then set a brisk pace towards the holding cells. They were set in the ship’s sub level so it took a goodly twenty minutes to get there. When they did, a locked panel required a passcode for entrance; Vos made Ratchet turn around before he would input it. An entire block was taken up by two rows of cells, four on each side of the wide hall- three Tarns could easily walk abreast down it.

As soon as the door was opened though, the scent of spilt energon and other repugnant, chemical odors nearly made Ratchet gag.

At the very end of the hall in the last cell to the left, was Tarn and Grimlock. The dinobot was still in root mode and was hung upside down from the ceiling by a hook through an ankle. The other leg was bent so his pede touched his lower back and was tied in that stress position. One optic had a cup over it which held an acidic element in order to slowly dissolve it. Tarn only did it to one optic because he wanted to make sure the damnable thing could watch his face and associated it with the pain he was enduring. He had already torn out the T-cog last night so Grimlock was stuck in his mech form.

Without conscious thought, Ratchet bolted down the hall, leaving Vos behind; “Tarn, stop! Stop, stop, please! Kaon's alive!” He begged as he ran. Tarn glanced up coldly at the medic’s voice just as Ratchet practically threw himself at the bars. All the bitterness and anger Tarn felt towards the dinobot was now directed at the old mech, and yet Ratchet did not flinch under that gaze. 

Grimlock's wild, pain filled gaze managed to flicker over to Ratchet and he snarled at the newcomer. Someone else to torture him? But no. This mech wasn't wanting to hurt him. And there was something...familiar about him...? Even through his pain, the dinobot took in a large inhale of scent before recognition flickered in his one optic. 

"’Tor...?" He growled roughly.

Ratchet's spark broke all over again and his grip tightened even further on the bars. Grimlock still remembered him as his creator, even though Ratchet had barely given the thing a thought in years. Guilt and shame ate at him. “Please…” he repeated. “Kaon will live. We need to stop to get him new outer armor, but I stripped a victim for parts for him. Vos was there. I'm not lying...”

“You had better not be,” Tarn warned as he slowly began to approach the bars where the medic was.  
Though he glanced over his shoulder coldly when Grimlock addressed Ratchet as his creator. He’d already figured the old mech had a sort of parental-like bond with the AIs he made. Or at the very least, the AIs seemed to think that way. He wasn’t sure how Ratchet felt towards them entirely though if his current reaction was any indication, he seemed to care for them.

Luckily Vos was there to back up and confirm the white mech's claim ~Kaon will live, he will need time to rest and recover but he won't die,~ he stated before adding, ~we can stop at Delphi for parts. Then head to Messantine to allow Kaon to recover~

Tarn was silent but slowly nodded his helm as he seemed to calm down ever so slightly, “…Alright.”  
The larger mech looked down at Ratchet then opened the door and moved to the side, allowing him to enter if he wanted and further gave permission, "You can patch him up if you wish. I'm going to see things for myself," he informed them. With that he left the pair alone, trusting Vos to keep an optic on things.

"Thank you," he whispered softly, immediately darting inside to the dinobot. His first order of business was to take that damn cup off his optic and toss the container of acid away. Grimlock winced and growled, but didn’t struggle against Ratchet.

"What you doing here?" The dinobot questioned while Ratchet struggled to get him down. He wasn’t quite tall enough so he had to keep jumping and trying to reach Grimlock's leg to unhook him. "Them not hurt you?"

"I'm okay Grimlock. They haven’t hurt me." Well okay Kaon had before, but Grim didn’t need to get any more worked up. As to what he was doing there- he really had no answer for that though. Not anything that would keep Grimlock docile at least. "Just- hush for a minute. I need to do this," the medic gently pat Grimlock's cheek under his good optic.

It took a few tries but once he got the chains off of Grimlock's leg- the large dinobot came crashing down with a yell of pain. "Sorry, sorry," Ratchet gave, immediately going over to help him up. Though Grimlock was glaring defiantly with his one good optic at Vos and bore his denta at him. "Why you with these mechs?" He asked again, the dinobot unsure as to what was going on.

"I, erm, work for them-"

"But he hurt me," Grimlock growled, covering his melted optic. 

"I know Grim...It was all just a big misunderstanding. I'm sorry he hurt you," Ratchet gave softly. "I'll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Just be a good mech, okay? Now, let me see-" Having followed his instincts, Ratchet had brought a medical kit down with him. It wasn’t much, but he could stop Grimlock from bleeding and help clear up the melted optic. 

It was difficult to have to work on Grimlock and keep him calm and distracted, but Ratchet had years of experience with it. Not with the dinobots persay, but there were plenty of youngling like Autobots he’d had to deal with over time. He couldn’t replace the torn out cabling, but he did put a mesh patch over the hole in Grimlock’s side where Tarn had cut in to pull his t-cog out. The missing internals were not vital for their species survival so clamping the still leaking lines before placing the patch would have to be enough. Though he did so without putting the t-cog back in. He didn’t have the tools and besides, he knew there was no point. From Tarn’s medical file he knew the others transformation addiction meant he harvested t-cogs from their victims and figured the other would want to keep Grim’s as well, so he wrapped it and placed it in his bag for now. It would be helpful to have a gift in case he needed to placate an irate tank. 

Staring at his creations battered frame, Ratchet’s resolve hardened and he stood from the floor once he had repaired the mech as best he could. "I’m a bit busy and have to go take care of some things, but I'll be back with some energon for you in a little bit, okay Grim?"

Throughout, Vos had watched the interaction between Ratchet and Grimlock silently. He found it a bit funny honestly when the other fell from the ceiling, but managed to keep his vocalizer muted. However, Vos cocked his helm when Ratchet said he would get energon -- was that okay? Tarn didn't say if he could do that or not. So he approached and looked a tad concerned, “Voosss unnsuuurre..?” he stated.

Turning so that Grimlock wouldn’t see him, Ratchet gave the mech a pleading look, then held a digit up to his lips to signal Vos should stop talking. If they wanted to keep the dinobot calm and docile, they needed to let Ratchet do his own thing. Ratchet scratched behind Grimlock's helm at a spot he knew the dinobot loved before moving towards the bars to leave him. Grimlock tried to stand and follow, but staggered from the injuries to his leg. "Why me Grimlock need to stay here?" He growled, annoyed and confused as to why his creator was leaving him here, hurt and alone. 

Ratchet faltered and looked back towards his creation. "Because-"

"Well, because Tarn is angry with you. And he's my boss now. Like Optimus used to be."

"....Me hate Optimus. And Tarn too," Grimlock growled, the dinobot smart enough to know the one who had been torturing him was likely Tarn. 

"I know Grim. But we're going to take you to Cybertron soon, so you won’t have to deal with him long," he promised, obviously not telling him the whole truth. He exited the cell and locked it.

He waited until they were further from Grimlock before responding to Vos’ earlier concern properly. "Look, Tarn wants him alive for Shockwave, right? And he said I can repair him....Grimlocks bled out a lot so he needs the energon," Ratchet reasoned. "Besides, as tough as the dinobots are...even I’m not sure how hardy they are when it comes to damages...they're a mix of Earth and Cybertronian technology. And the Earth tech- well, obviously that’s a huge disadvantage for him."

Ratchet was trying to sway him, but Vos _really_ wasn’t sure. Yes, Tarn had said to repair him, but even with the mix of Earth technology the dinobots were dangerous. Still, Ratchet was right. He and Tarn had spilt much energon last night. Not enough to kill a regular Cybertronian of Grimlock’s size, but, if what Ratchet said was true then perhaps he processed energon less efficiently. Or something similar. He contemplated it for a while, until they were about halfway to the medbay, before he finally nodded his helm; “Yessss.” He would allow it this one time.

Trying to keep quiet the whole time was excruciating, but it seemed to pay off as Vos finally caved. He smiled at the other, but didn’t say anything- afraid that even a ‘thank you’ might break the giving mood the other was in and have Vos suspect anything and change his mind. 

When the pair finally made it back to the medbay, every bot aboard the ship was now present. 

“What are you two doing up?” Ratchet demanded the moment he came in, staring down Helex and Tess angrily. “You should be laying in berth, resting.”

“Aww, so good to see you care about us,” an infuriatingly familiar voice called. Ratchet’s attention turned towards Kaon who was sitting up in berth. Tarn was beside him, the pair having been conversing until Ratchet came in. 

“In all seriousness, we’re fine Ratchet,” Tess said and for a moment the medic was confused; he didn’t have much experience dealing with Tess or Helex, but the tan mech had made his disdain well known early on, much like Kaon. So why was he acting civil all of a sudden? “We wouldn’t be DJD members if we couldn’t handle a few cuts now and then. Besides, missing limbs are so not serious,” he gave, nudging Helex in one of his re-attached arms. Helex’s lip curled, though he gave no other indication of how damned painful that was. He’d get Tess later.

“Enough,” Tarn spoke up, “Vos purchased Ratchet for his medical expertise. If he says you should remain in your berth, you will do so.” His tone brooked no argument. Helex vented but did as he was told. Tess did as well, though with much grumbling under his vents. As the medic approached Tarn asked, “And how is Grimlock? I didn’t mess him up _too_ badly I take it?” Interested to see the sort of reaction he’d garner from the medic.

Ratchet’s mouth tightened, “…He’ll live too.” 

From his position Kaon could read the medic’s pain and anger deep within his spark and, much as Ratchet had predicted before, the sensation filled the red mech full of pleasure. Especially since he was still sore over being _punished_ , just for roughing the other up a _little_ bit. Surprisingly though he kept his mouth shut, both because he didn’t want to get chewed out again, but also because of their little family get together. He still didn’t agree with Tarn’s decision, but even he wasn’t foolish enough to directly disobey their leader. Tarn put up with a lot of foolishness, but not direct disobedience. Instead he said, “And I _guess_ I owe you a thanks. For making sure I lived too. But, if you did anything funny to me you know you’re gonna seriously regret it, right--?”

“No need to threaten him Kaon. The thanks will suffice,” Tarn admonished. 

Hey, no need for the medic to think he liked him or anything either. But Kaon just crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed. At least he didn’t say anything else though. Ratchet inspected Kaon both visually and with the handheld scanner once more. "The only thing keeping your fuel tank contents from spilling out all over the floor is a bit of welded scrap metal and bandages so I’d suggest you lay back down," the old mech suggested once he was satisfied all his temp patches were still holding. “I’m surprised you’re up at all. The others I understand but the sedatives I gave you shouldn’t have worn off by now.”

“Tch, you’re the medic-”

“What Kaon is trying to say is that our use of Nuke has made other drugs…less effective on us,” Tarn interrupted.

“Ah, I see.” In truth, Ratchet had accounted for that, but still- Nickel’s notes hadn’t listed how often they shot up or the dosage each mech used. “Well- I suggest that Kaon get some more rest, Tarn. His repairs were extensive, nothing short of a total overhaul in all honesty.” With that he glanced over to where Nickel was tending to Tesarus, since the tan mech was still being a big baby over not being allowed to leave the medbay. “Nickel, would you mind showing me where the sedatives are? I didn’t see where you got them before.”

“What? No! I don’t need to sleep more!” Kaon protested as he immediately sat back up in the berth.

Tarn’s servo pressed down gently but firmly against Kaon’s shoulder and even though the blind mech couldn’t see it, he cut the mech an annoyed look. Though it was Vos who spoke, ~Tch. We all know you can’t sit still for more than five minutes Kaon. It would take you less than ten minutes if we all left for you to pull something out of boredom~ Vos scoffed. 

Even though Nickel nor Ratchet could understand him, Tarn’s chuckle and the ‘go on then,’ motion he made was permission enough for the two medics to fetch the sedatives together. Patient consent wasn’t needed aboard a ship like this and Ratchet wasn’t going to be foolish enough to protest it.  
At that point, Tarn took his leave. Medical bays weren’t his favorite places. Even though he was immensely grateful for Megatron’s favor, he would never forget the agony of his metamorphis. He had come to check up on Kaon’s status and was immensely pleased with Ratchet’s work. Even though he hated the circumstances he had to admit it was extremely convenient that they had Ratchet aboard when this happened. 

“You have things handled here Nickel?” Ratchet asked

“Yeah. I think I can handle a couple of doped up younglings,” the femme laughed even as Tess growled a protest at being called a youngling. She’d given Tesarus and Helex pain medication which, even though it wouldn’t knock them out, would still prevent Tess from trying to sneak out of the medbay when she wasn’t looking. As if his big hulking frame was conductive to sneaking anyway, but still.

With her reassurance, Ratchet grabbed a cube of energon. Vos had waited patiently for the medic, knowing the other wished to go back to Grimlock. Then, when they were done, they could go back to his room and relax. Ratchet still looked awful and while the medic rested, Vos could work inside his lab. Even though Nickel had finished clearing out Ratchet’s room it was easier to not have to worry about Ratchet having an escort if he just stayed with Vos. Not that Vos liked the Autobots presence or anything. 

Ratchet followed after Vos into the holding cells once more, his spark hammering heavily in his chest. He walked just a little behind Vos. He didn’t want to have to do this, but...it was for the best. And it was likely his only chance to do it. "Grimlock, hey. I've got your energon," he called softly, pressing the cube of energon through a slit at the bottom of the cell door.

Grimlock lifted his helm, his one optic dimly lit and sullen. "Ratchet. Me no like it here. Want to leave," even though he reached out for the energon cube so trustingly. Ratchet smiled thinly at him, "I know Grim. Just- there's nothing I can do...You know I would if I could." He wanted so badly to enter the cell. Offer comfort. But-

"I only came down to give you your energon. But I'll- I'll check on you in the morning. Okay?" 

Vos watched Ratchet interact with his creation with his arms crossed over his chest. It was interesting to him to see the medic so obviously pained over a _computer’s_ suffering. He figured the sorrow and anguish Ratchet was feeling was due to the fact Grimlock would be returned to Shockwave. So he shrugged it off, if only he knew now what the other had planned…

"But Ratchet-" Grimlock gave, the dinobot confused as to why Ratchet was acting this way. 

But the old mech just smiled crookedly. "You trust me, right? Things will work out fine and I'll see you in the morning." He reached through the bars to softly caress his creations face, hiding his reaction when Grimlock started to drink. Ratchet put in enough sedatives to take down a combiner like Devastator, maybe even a small sized Metrotitan. It was more than enough to kill the significantly smaller dinobot. He’d taken them when Nickel wasn’t looking earlier and hid them under the armor in his wrists. Walking behind Vos allowed him to stealthily slip them into the drink. And it was much easier to do than some bots might believe. Unlike some other alien worlds, assisted suicides had never been taboo on Cybertron even though Ratchet never needed to perform one before. Granted, it was only supposed to be done with a patients consent and lots of datawork, but this…This was an act of mercy. As a non-sentient being, Ratchet didn’t have the same level of guilt about not obtaining consent, either. He wouldn’t allow Grimlock to suffer the same fate as his brothers.

Their trip obviously over, Vos waved goodbye to the dinobot. He wasn’t sure if the beast understood body language, but it wasn’t like it mattered. Grimlock reacted to Vos with a snarl as the pair left. Ratchet followed sedately behind Vos, the medics expression pinched and upset.

~Don’t look so upset Ratchet. Grimlock’s injuries were mild compared to what Tarn wanted to do~ Vos chirped pleasantly at him, unaware of the others deceit. He gently patted the mechs arm, trying to offer reassurances. Not that it mattered to Ratchet. He tried to numb himself to the creeping level of dread that threatened to overtake his spark. For as soon as they found out about Grimlock, he knew he would suffer some form of punishment- and the DJD would not be kind enough to kill him.  
***  
The following day there was a sharp rap on Tarn's door. On the otherside was Tesarus, the mechs face twisted into a deep scowl, his grinder scraping together in his chest. "Tarn! You need to see this, now!" He had been a good little mech and stayed the night in medbay, but remaining in the same room as a bored, irritable Kaon was just asking for trouble. So he had left along with Helex early that morning, leaving Nickel to deal with the Kaon issue. 

It was a good thing he had though. 

Now, Tarn was already awake. One wouldn’t be able to tell it, but he was not a mech that sleep came to easily. He put on a good front during the day, but at night there was no hiding from his doubts or insecurities. To be disturbed so early though, that was rare—and an immediate sign that something was amiss. He was rereading one of Megatron's pieces when it happened. He quickly put the datapad aside and hastily moved over to the door to open it. Being greeted with Tesarus' angered expression—  
something was very wrong. He felt his spark drop a little; what was the problem? "Lead me Tess," he commanded.

It only took a few turns before it was clear to Tarn it wasn't Kaon, and it didn’t take him long to narrow down their path towards the holding pens. So, something to do with Shockwave’s pet?

“I came down this morning, you know, for a little fun. You and Vos had a turn so I figured, why not? Only fair. But when I got here—”

When Tarn saw the dinobot it all became clear. The creature was dead. Gunmetal grey and lifeless. It was patched up though, so it couldn't have bled out, right?

"Bring Ratchet done here, NOW,” the mech so furious that Tess flinched as Tarn’s uncontrolled temper had his gift lashing out inadvertently. “Summon Helex and Vos to attend," he snarled through his throat before darkly declaring, "Autobots are all the same... They can't learn anything unless it's through death and misery..."  
***

Erstwhile, Vos was just starting to wake. Unaware for the moment of all that was to unfold, he watched Ratchet as he slept on the floor for a few moments before deciding to wake him up. He hopped off the berth to kneel down next to him and lightly tapped him on the face to see if it would wake him up. When that didn't work he shook him by the shoulder and called out,"Rrrrat-ch-chet?" 

Now, Ratchet was not a stupid mech and he had no delusions. He had seen what Tarn did to Grimlock and knew he would be treated infinitely worse. So he didn’t exactly get the world’s best rest. It took a few good, hard shakes from Vos to finally rouse the mech from his slumber. When he finally blinked up at Vos— he immediately shrunk away. The reaction threw the smaller mech for a loop. Ratchet had never reacted so badly to them before, not even when he was first brought aboard. So what reason did he have now? 

Of course Ratchet initially assumed the other had been told what had happened and he stared at the other fearfully, waiting for something, anything to happen. When it didn't, Ratchet felt tears prick at his optics again and he looked away from the lithe DJD member. "....I'm sorry Vos," he whispered, holding his blankets close to his frame.

That was when the comm from Tess came in, :: Helex, Vos. Report to the holding cells. Now. And Vos? Bring your pet in cuffs. He's killed Grimlock::

Vos’ optics widened briefly. Then, as he stared at the cowering Autobot, they darkened several shades. "Ratcheeett liiiieee," he hissed, unable to completely mask the hurt, "why?! Vooossss _truuusstt_!" Tarn had been right. Autobots were all the same! They liked to pretend they were so good, so innocent…and then they betray you! He leapt from the berth onto the medic. He was small, but his weight and momentum were enough to knock the Autobot to the floor. "Voosss haaaaate youuu," he bitterly murmured, "plaann liiiieee!"

Even though retaliation was expected, Ratchet still gasped when his throat was grabbed. Despite the glimmer of tears rolling down his cheeks though, he stared defiantly at the slimmer mech. "I've only been aboard for a few days. You're a fool if you thought you could trust me so easily," he hissed in defiance. "And I told you- I told you from day one I'd do what I could to defy you..." 

Ratchet grunted when he was slammed into the ground, but he didn’t fight Vos. It would be pointless. Even if he got away from the other, there was no escape from the ship. Not unless he tossed himself out into the void of space. But since that would be suicide, the inhibitor in his head wouldn’t allow that. Probably why he hadn’t tried anything to himself last night. "I hate you too, you damn murderers!" Ratchet shouted. "Did you really think I'd allow you to give my creation to that monster Shockwave?! I put him to sleep. He died a peaceful, easy death. I granted him _mercy_."

It rankled the DJD mech just how right the damned Autobot was. Ratchet had not said that in so many words, though he had made his desire to escape clear at first. Yet, he had been so docile. So compliant…Vos had allowed himself, so foolishly, to _hope_. But it turned out that Ratchet was just like fraggin’ Pharma. Biding his time under false niceties. Quietly he reminded himself of the reasons why Autobots were terrible, all the things they did, that the Autobots had been part of the Senate. The Senate would never have changed, thus the Autobots were just the same. It was what Vos convinced himself as he glanced back at Ratchet—optics that were normally soft and curious before were cold and distant now.

With a wordless growl, Vos tightened his grip around Ratchet’s neck in warning, then stood to storm away into his lab. When he returned he held a pair of stasis cuffs. With Ratchet being so accommodating now it was easy to slap the cuffs onto his wrists. 

With the energy draining cuffs on and his will to fight gone, Ratchet silently trudged after Vos towards the holding cells. When they arrived, Helex was already there. So that everyone besides Kaon and Nickel were present; Kaon was going to be pissed when he found out he missed out on them finally torturing the medic. When they arrived, Vos’ aggressively shoved Ratchet to the floor at the pedes of his fellow DJD members. He just barely had enough time to catch himself so that he scraped the palms of his servos, instead of falling chest first into the ground.

The DJD members formed a loose semi-circle around him. Behind Tarn, Ratchet could make out Grimlock's greyed frame and he stared at the dinobot rather than looking at any of the DJD. He had _nothing_ to say to them. He was guilty of this crime and had admitted as much to Vos. He was there to accept his punishment, since he knew there was no other alternative for him.

Generally, the group used a turn based system; Tarn always went last since he was often the one who finished off the kill. Of course, they weren’t going to kill Ratchet. Not that the medic would know that. In all honesty, as bitter as Tarn was to have to report a failure to Shockwave, this sequence of events couldn’t have played out better for their plans. And in the grand scheme of things, no one had known where Grimlock had gone so there was always the possibility Shockwave would never have found the Autobot. At least now Shockwave would have the corpse to study. 

"Go ahead Vos," Tarn encouraged to signal the session would begin. As Vos’ property it was only right he got to go first in disciplining the medic.

Vos nodded his helm, but gestured for Helex to step forward. ~I need someone to hold him so he can watch,~ Vos explained.

Even though Helex was still recovering from his injuries, he still had two good, strong arms he could use without worrying about the Autobot hitting them. First he grabbed Ratchet by the scruff bar, then manipulated the other with all four servos so that he was kneeling and facing Vos. Using his good, upper arm he put Ratchet into a chokehold. 

Vos roughly grabbed Ratchet’s cuffed servos and unlocked them. He ignored the older mechs piteously inquiring sound. A comm to the smelter had Helex’s lower arm pulling Ratchet’s right arm behind his back. Vos grabbed the other wrist and lifted the Autobot’s servo. As he casually examined it he reached into subspace—and pulled out a pilliwinks. 

Once Ratchet saw what Vos held, he whimpered softly, “No…” and tried to tug his servos free. Vos’ grip simply tightened, claws pricking at seams.

If they were going to destroy his forged medic servos then surely they would kill him after....right? Otherwise, he was going to be useless to them anyway so they'd have no purpose keeping him around. Hoping that they would kill him, Ratchet watched with dull optics as Vos prepped his servo for destruction and had the forethought to offline his vocalizer.

Instinctively his digits curled into a fist in Vos’ hold. But Helex used his freshly re-attached servos to force the medic’s digits open. 

~Tarn, I'm sorry I made a miscalculation with this _thing_ ~ Vos apologized as he took the first servo in his own, debating which digit to start with. Even though he could crush all of them at once, he wanted this to be as slow and painful as possible. So he would only do one at a time. He completely ignored the medic’s pathetic little plea, not even deigning it with a glare. 

"I forgive you Vos," Tarn replied before noting, "let's just not let history repeat itself next time."

Vos nodded his helm and picked the index digit to put through the pilliwinks. He made sure to tightly hold the medic's wrist as he began to slowly screw the device closed.

Even turning the sensors all the way down on his servos, being that they were the most delicate part of his body, didn’t mean very much. Even with his vocalizer offline, a sharp burst of static escaped him as he silently screamed, his entire frame wiggling to try and free himself from the pain. But Helex held fast. The pain sent fire screaming through his neural net, his vision whiting out from the pain. Oh gods. Oh PRIMUS. The next digits were just as bad as the first as Vos crushed through his middle digit and thumb. Tears flowed freely from the medic's optics, his mouth perpetually parted in silent, panting cries of pain.

Once he was finished with that, Vos nodded to himself, then silently communicated for Helex to give him the other servo. It took a few moments for the hulking mech to adjust his four arms to ensure he kept a tight hold on the struggling medic, but he finally managed to lift the intact right servo. Not that it remained that way for long.

This time Vos crushed all of the digits except the thumb. Even though he was pleased with the work, it still felt like there was something missing…Ohh! Yes he knew what it was now! His optics beamed with delight as he tore off one of the barely attached digits; then shoved it in Ratchet's mouth.

The first digit he managed to spit back into Vos' face. 

~Seems the doctor is being stubborn about taking his own medicine,~ Vos commented dryly, even as Tesarus came over to punch him in the side of the helm, which stunned him long enough for Vos to shove two more down his throat. Even with his processor spinning, his helm dented in, he could taste the energon and feel the odd catch in his throat tubing from the solid mass. His tanks heaved, the mech throwing up all over himself and the floor. 

"Disgusting," Tess sneered, mocking the medic. Although not nearly satisfied, Vos knew they weren’t going to kill the medic so that severely limited what they could do to the mech. So for now he nodded his helm towards Helex, passing on the baton of torture to him. Now that it was his turn, Helex released Ratchet and shoved his face down into his own processed energon. When he’d first received the comm from Tarn, Helex had taken his time in thinking about what sort of torment he could possibly inflict on the medic. Before Vos’ arrival he had stopped at one of the other torture cells to fetch a bit of chain that had been left down here. Picking the medic up by the back of the neck he shoved the medic up against the cell bars with his larger set of arms. Then, with his smaller ones, he punched straight through the right shoulder. Ignoring the medics attempts to kick him, he threaded the chain through the hole and then began the painful process of bending the mechs frame like a pretzel. 

After getting the chain through his shoulder, Helex threw him back onto the ground on his stomach and yanked his right leg up until it was nearly touching the abused shoulder. He repeated the process and rammed the bit of chain through his ankle. In order to prevent the chain from sliding out of the hole, he clamped a large padlock onto the end that was coming out of the ankle. Experimentally, he let some of the slack loose from Ratchet's shoulder, which allowed his leg to lower- then sharply tugged it back up again, garnering a gurgling noise from the mech. He gave a few more tugs, letting the chain rub against the open wounds. Satisfied his idea was working, Helex hefted the smaller bot up to carry him into one of the other cells. There, he attached the chain to a hook in the ceiling which forcibly tugged the leg backwards into a stress position.

Ratchet’s optics were dim, the mech barely online. He had been so, _so_ stupid. He was learning first hand why the DJD had the reputation they did. Not that he’d ever doubted it, but hearing about and experiencing something first hand were very, very different. 

With that, Helex gestured towards Tess to take over.

"My, my. You're not looking so good, mech. Maybe someone ought to _fix you up,_ " he sneered, Tess being one who enjoyed mocking and verbally abusing their victims just as much as he did physically. "Are you praying for death yet? Because you're only halfway there~"

His grinder clicked and whirred, the mech wanting so badly to use it. But his grinder was meant only for death, unless he could get his victims legs in. And with Ratchet suspended as he was, he didn't have a good angle for it. So instead he sort of took Helex's role by pulling out a small, medical torch used for welding. "I think it's past due we get rid of _this_ " he sighed, clicking the torch on and holding it directly over the center of Ratchet's chestplate- right where his Autobrand was. He slowly melted the glass of Ratchet's chest, watching as the medic's face twisted in agony. And how every little twitch had him swinging on the chains which tugged on his shoulder and ankle. However, there was only so much a mechs frame could take. Even though he wasn’t verbalizing his agony, Ratchet was certainly still feeling it, and he eventually succumbed to the pain. 

"Slaggit- why do they always pass out on my turn?" he growled, snarling and punching the area he had just melted, his fist easily going through the soft glass and setting Ratchet to swing again.

"It's alright Tess, what matters is that he'll wake up again so we may continue where we left off," Tarn said adamantly.

~This is why we normally have Kaon go after you, so he could jolt them awake right away,~ Vos noted, a bit bummed out that this could take a while. Of course, the longer Ratchet was knocked out, the longer he was strung up so that the chains could strain his joints. It also meant the more he bled, too. In this, though, the DJD had a well of patience. Tracking down and torturing their pray was the most exciting and pleasurable thing they could do and unlike most bots who hurried and wanted to enjoy their things quickly, the DJD members knew how to savor it.

Of course, when Ratchet did start to regain consciousness a little over an hour later, he wished he hadn't. Primus, _why?_ WHY wasn't he dead? His frame convulsed on the chains and he made a pitiful sound of agony, his control over his vocalizer gone as the block removed itself while he was passed out. His optics were barely lit and bleached of color; the orbs an icy blue and the 'pupils' were constricted to mere pinpricks. Even though he was mostly white, the medic's colors were dull and tinged with grey from energon loss; it wasn’t like the few days with the DJD had put that much of a dent in his malnourishment.

Since they had all been waiting so patiently for him, they of course noticed when Ratchet finally returned to them. Now that it was his turn, Tarn approached until they could meet optic to optic. "Looks like you've returned, we've missed you Ratchet..." Tarn said softly, "You know, I didn't want to do this, I wanted to avoid it, I _really_ did... I know it might not seem fair, it never is now is it Ratchet? Your servos are basically useless, your strung up like a decoration and your brand has been cleansed from your chassis..." Tarn using his voice to infect the medic’s spark with pain and sorrow. He lifted a servo and allowed his digits to thoughtfully drum against Ratchet’s chest wound.

Ratchet just stared at Tarn when he approached, the medic completely dead opticked and unresponsive. He didn't care anymore...They had already ruined him. His servos were gone. His closest friends and family were almost all gone. All he wanted was to die. _Please just kill him_. That was what they did, right? They'd gotten their fun out of him- but he couldn't even ask for that. Even thinking about the sweet release of death left his limbs numb and heavy and his voice useless. 

Everything hurt. His spark thudded sluggishly in his chest- he could barely even muster up the fear he knew he should be feeling. All the adrenaline had run its course through his frame so that it all felt like this was happening to someone else. He heard Tarn speaking. He felt the wounds on his frame. Felt the weight in his spark that Tarns voice put on him. And yet he felt like he was looking down on someone else. 

His optics offlined when Tarn rapped against his chest, face twisting in a grimace. And there might have been a cry of pain, but Ratchet couldn’t be sure; he couldn’t hear it. He felt like he ought to be crying again, but he didn’t have any washer fluid left to shed.

When Tarn continued speaking his voice was lower, softer. More inviting. “You chose to stay with us Ratchet, remember? Either run away for the rest of our existence from us—or become a part of us. The latter is starting to slip out of reach for you. But I want you to picture something: align with us and never have to be hurt again...Wouldn't it be nice to get away from all the suffering you're facing Ratchet? All the spark drowning feelings and physical scars? Or do you honestly enjoy this? Is suffering what you want deep inside?" 

There were several moments after Tarn finished speaking where Ratchet didn't react at all. He just wanted to die. Why was he doing this...?

Slowly, he shook his helm at the purple mech. No. No, he didn’t want to suffer any more. But he wasn’t going to join the DJD either. "I-I'd s-suffer all the m-more-" his vocals spat static and he hissed, shivers racking his frame; "h-having to look at y-you....everyd-day," he spat.

Tarn smiled behind his mask. He could tell the medic wanted die; he didn’t need Kaon’s ability to know it. This was going to be a pivotal moment for all of them. Either Ratchet would break down, here and now, and become completely useless to them- or it would be the point where they could start molding him into something new. "Honestly Ratchet? I think there is a catch with your words... If you would suffer more by seeing my face... Isn't seeing my face the worst form of torture?" he said slightly amused a moment before sounding serious again, "if so, you must really enjoy punishment because your hollow optics have only been staring in my direction. Now tell me... They say the worst death for a bot is dying confused and alone. What do you think? Is it tragic to die alone and confused or among others and well-aware? I want you to offline your optics and notice how your spark is shrinking, surely it hurts... But you know... it gets... Worse... the. slower. and. quieter. I. talk. the. climax. of. death. is. just. an _illusion_. cause you're not going to be killed Ratchet, oh no... You get to bare a fate _worse_ than death." 

Even though Tarn had been using his gift since Ratchet came back online, it had been barely noticeable. Ratchet’s entire frame was one giant ball of hurt. Yet the more Tarn spoke, the more obvious his influence became on his spark. Ratchet's venting became shallow and uneven, his face scrunching up in agony. He could _feel_ his spark shrinking inside his chest, just like Tarn said. "Tarn-" He gasped, his face becoming ashen. A sudden swell of shame and regret constricted his spark further. His entire world narrowed down to pure suffering. Pain blistered along his lines until he felt as if his spark was being torn asunder.

Unexpectedly, Tarn reached out to gently caress the others face. Though Ratchet retained just enough state of mind to flinch from the unwanted touch. “Now, now. No need for that, dear Ratchet,” Tarn crooned, even though the medic had every right to be fearful of their touch. “I can’t help but wonder though- How much sanity will you lose in order to uphold your stubborn pride? You have two new choices now. Either suffer down here daily with all of us, or live by new stricter rules and try to redeem yourself... Honestly, we gain either way Ratchet, but what about you? I can't say it sounds very beneficial to a husk like you now does it? And if you fail us again, you'll only be stuck with the first option. Trust me, we'll patch you up just so we can break you down again and again... You've barely experienced all we have to offer as it is Ratchet. The pain right now is not even a beginning...”

Then, suddenly, the pain stopped. At least that which was affecting his spark, the medic gasping as his ventilations picked up when the others hold on his spark loosened and allowed it to beat normally. His frame was being stressed to his breaking point, condensation dripping from his face and chest. He was close to passing out again, but Tarn kept him gripped under the others power just enough so that he did not get even that mercy. 

He hated them. He hated them _so much._ And it showed in his expression, even through the defeat and despair also there. But given his new options- what was the point? In all honesty, if Grimlock had not been captured or if the DJD had killed him first- none of this would have happened. Ratchet had had no intentions of defying the group, not unless he found a means to try and escape. He had known he would be tortured for killing Grimlock- but why would he _choose_ to continue being tormented, when he previously had no other intentions of misbehaving? As far as he was concerned he'd served his penance and just wanted it to be _done._

"No more-" He whispered hoarsely, the old mech choking on his words as he sobbed quietly, even without tears. "N-no more, Tarn. Please...." The old mech choosing the second option.

"How do I know you're not just speaking out your tailpipe?" Though as he spoke, he reached up to unhook Ratchet from the ceiling. Instead of allowing the other to fall, however, he made sure to catch the medic. The yank rubbed the chain through his raw wounds, making the old mech cry out, though at this point he was so weak all that came out was a soft mew. Since Ratchet couldn’t stand on his own, Tarn supported nearly the entirety of his weight. He held Ratchet so close that they would be chest to chest if they were of height. Again Tarn reached out to touch him- a gentle servo wiped some of the condensation from his face and chest- and again, he flinched away. Though this time there was nowhere for him to retreat to except further into Tarn’s embrace so that he was forced to bear the others disturbingly light touches. It made him all the more skittish and afraid; it was too jarring to have Tarn caress him and wipe the fluids from his frame after everything else that had been to him. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but instead Tarn continued on, “You're going to need to plead and convince each of us that you deserve the chance to see outside of these holding cells again. Personally, I've heard our pet do a better job begging for food so you're going to have to try again and _convince_ us..." As he spoke he continued to gently touch the others frame. A small touch to the cheek. Another to the throat. Each caress skirting around the worst of the damage. He knew it was confusing and frightening for the smaller bot- which was exactly what he wanted. After a mechanimal was kicked, it would still return to its master if the promise of comfort was offered. Tarn wanted Ratchet to rely on him, on them, to _need_ the DJD. It would take time, and much manipulation, but it was a project that- if nothing else- would hopefully keep them busy for some time to come.

Their optics met as Ratchet glanced up, before he quickly glanced away. What was he supposed to say to that? He glanced around at the other DJD members and struggled to speak- both in finding the words and getting his damned vocalizer to work. "I don't," Ratchet finally settled on, "deserve it..." To be let out of the holding cells. "I lied- about other things too," he admitted. If he was going to be punished, might as well get it all out now. He didn’t want to be found out later. He _never_ wanted to endure this again. "I understand Vos perfectly..." 

"Was hoping he'd say something...I could use to escape," he took a deep, rasping vent. "S-so I don’t deserve your mercy," HA! if it could be called that. It made him sick to even be speaking like this- "B-but I'll do better. I swear! No more lies, Tarn," he whimpered.

 _That_ admission made Vos bristle. How dare him for making him go through such slag when it wasn't needed! He even rumbled a pissed off churr when he added it was to try and steal intelligence from him! He had to think over everything he said in front of him—as far as he was aware he hadn’t said anything incriminating. Not anything that would affect the DJDs operations or future plans at least. However, all three mechs were surprised when Tarn actually…chuckled? None of them had ever heard the purple mech laugh before. Not during a torture session at least. Tarn had a tendency to be rather…melancholic. He tried to hide it, but there was no way to conceal ones emotions with a bot like Kaon in the group. Vos glanced to Tess and Helex, to see if they knew anything about it. In all honesty seeing their captain feigning kindness with their victims was always a little strange to them, even if they understood why he did it. But with Ratchet it was different because they knew the purpose behind it- even if Tess didn’t want the stupid medic to be part of their family. 

"Dear Ratchet... I was asking for a plea not a confession,” it had to be the cutest, most unexpected and dumbest thing he had a victim do. Which was saying a lot, since he was the longest surviving member!

"I-I know," he warbled pathetically. "But...I don't know what you want me to say...To beg for my life would be a lie..." Because he wanted to die. "And I only regret having to have killed Grimlock, not why I did it- so begging for forgiveness would also be a lie..." He shuttered his optics; "As for the confession? Why wait? You’d have found out eventually anyway..." 

He onlined his optics again and then, with great effort, forced himself away from Tarn and to his knees. More energon splattered to the floor from his wounds as he bowed his helm to the others, any sense of pride or dignity stripped from him. "You bought me for a specific purpose. I can’t fulfill that now, because I messed up but I- I _swear_ it won’t happen again. I've learned my lesson. And I know you don’t offer it often, but I beg for your mercy a-and a chance to prove myself in other ways-" Primus he felt so stupid. Not even because he was humiliated or anything. You needed dignity to feel that way. He just didn’t feel like he was saying the right things for it to count as begging. But he'd really never done this before so it just tumbled dumbly from his mouth.

"Still doesn’t sound very convincing," Tess scoffed, glaring down at the defeated mech. Then again, he’d been the only one to voice his desire to scrap the plan and just kill the medic here and now. He didn’t see the point in wasting their time with him. Ratchet hunched even more, but fell silent, his frame language practically screaming fear- so much different from his previous defiance.

Even though Vos was upset, he didn’t want the medic killed. But he wasn’t exactly thrilled with trying to get the other to join them anymore, either. It had been such a fun sounding idea at the time…

The DJD members all took their names from the first five cities to fall at the beginning of the war. Wouldn't it be deliciously symbolic, then, to add a family member that represented the final city to fall to their leaders power? One that represented his conquering of Iacon? The fact that Ratchet was an Autobot would just make it all the better, to subvert and 'conquer' him in a similar way. Now Vos wasn’t so sure anymore.

Still. Tarn was the one who made all the final decisions. As Ratchet pleaded for his life, Tarn’s optics lost the look they gained when he was out for energon. He was calming down and to be honest the dumb bit from before had killed his mood. “…Clean him up, then take him to Nickel. I’ll handle down here,” Tarn finally said after allowing Ratchet to languish from his silence for a few minutes. None of them wanted to hear a peeved Nickel so they would all need to clean up before presenting the medic for attention. 

"...All right, fine. Vos do recon. Make sure we won’t run into Nickel on the way to the washracks. We'll clean then patch him," Tess growled, coming forward to yank Ratchet up by his uninjured arm. He was tempted to grab the other one, but they all knew Tarn was no longer in the mood to prolong the session so hurting Ratchet now, with him still around, would not end well for him. 

Though the medic still cried out in pain, his leg giving out on him when he tried to stand, forcing Tess to scoop him up and carry him bridal style. "Vos and I will take him to the washracks. Helex, go grab some stuff to stop the bleeding." They weren’t medics and so they couldn’t really repair Ratchet- but they could remove the chains and slap some bandages on. With their roles designated, the DJD members split apart to carry out their duties.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fight scene. And this one has a buttload of bots in it, which made it hard for me to keep track of. So if there are any glaring errors or bots I forgot to have react or something feel free to point it out this time >3>;

The repairs were almost as bad as the torture. The ship was low on medical supplies, including painkillers and were completely out of sedatives- thanks to Ratchet. It wouldn’t surprise the older mech if the DJD supplemented their Nuke addiction with other substances. Even though Nickel used some of their limited supply on him, they did not last through the entirety of the repairs. Not that there was much Nickel could do for him anyway. Her skill level was simply unable to handle the medic’s level of mutilation. There was absolutely nothing she could do for his digits, besides splinting them. A forged medic’s servos were too complicated for her to try to re-wire and there was absolutely no means to replace them. The hole in his chest she covered with mesh bandages; the glass was going to need to be completely replaced, but she at least wanted to cover the hole to protect the medics now exposed spark casing from contaminants. After helping Ratchet work on Kaon though, she was able to repair the medic’s shoulder and ankle. That, however, was when the painkillers began to wear off and she was forced to strap him down to finish- even when the older bot passed out again she didn’t dare risk unstrapping him until she was completely done.

Kaon had watched the entire proceedings with keen interest. What the slag had he _missed_? Last he knew they were trying to get the medic to like them—what did he do to deserve being tortured? And why was his luck so terrible he got to miss out on it?! His one chance to play with the mech and he missed it! Not that he was any happier about the situation when Tarn came to explain things to him. He was of a similar opinion as Tess. He had begrudgingly accepted that having a fully trained medic around might be useful- and he knew his current state of living was due to Ratchet’s work- but he didn’t understand Tarn’s apparent fascination with breaking the medic even from the beginning let alone now, after this betrayal. Wasn’t twice enough? First Pharma now this; but Tarn assured him he had a plan. Tarn _always_ had a plan. 

Kaon still didn’t like it though. It wasn’t even just the others desire to break Ratchet to their will that bothered him. It was the fact that Tarn wasn’t listening to the rest of the crews newfound concerns with the plan. If Ratchet was going to be a member of their family everyone was going to need to accept him, but the medic had fragged up so badly that Kaon didn’t see that happening. And the DJD functioned almost entirely on trust with each other, so that this new tension would surely disrupt their dynamic. It wouldn’t be as bad as discovering the former Vos had been a spy, but the point remained. They were still recovering from so many past betrayals they didn’t need an Autobot complicating the mix. 

“I know you think that I am not thinking clearly. The others have made their displeasure known as well. I am not ignoring your opinions. However, I still believe the benefits will outweigh the costs. Not in resources, but from Megatron’s praise.” Tarn’s optics brightened as he leaned closer towards Kaon, “Imagine how impressed he will be if we incorporate Optimus’ amica endura into our ranks. Not only as a Decepticon, but a DJD member.” Every DJD member was loyal to Megatron first and foremost; all except Nickel. But none of them could compare to the fervor of Tarn’s devotion. Kaon could sense Tarn’s _excitement_ at the thought. The DJD were so good at what they did, it wasn’t often they were praised for their work. The thought that this project might garner some outward approval from their leader made sense. Still-

“The medic gets only one more chance, Kaon. I will not risk you all beyond that.” One more chance was all the medic might need. But, knowing there was nothing he could say to convince Tarn otherwise, Kaon glumly nodded his helm. At least now he had a reason for Tarn’s behavior, even if he did not agree with it. Though if it did work out, seeing Tarn happy for once might just make it worthwhile. He hid it well from the others, but Kaon sensed the others doubts and melancholy. He couldn’t remember a time when Tarn had been excited for something, not even Overlord’s death. 

The topic of their conversation shifted on the berth, and the change in beeps of the spark monitor indicated the others ascent into consciousness. Nickel immediately came bustling out of the back at the noise; the femme had _not_ been pleased when Tess and Helex brought the medic to her. Not because she felt bad for the medic, but because the others knew she hated when they brought their violence on board. She disliked seeing the aftermath of their ‘fun’ since more often than not it triggered her own trauma. 

“Watch and learn, brother,” Tarn said as he stood. Hopefully Kaon would be smart enough to keep his mouth shut on his own; it would be terribly disappointing to the purple mech if he had to deal with one of Kaon’s outbursts after their little chit-chat. “Nickel, you’ve done what you can physically. Why don’t you go dote on our dear Kaon?” Despite the words his tone made it clear this was not a suggestion. So that the first thing the medic saw when he finally onlined again was Tarn’s looming presence. 

Before he could stop it, a whine tremulously emerged from his throat. He attempted to hunch away from the other, but even the slightest movement made him cry out in pain. The spark monitor attached to his chest began to beep faster, not that Tarn needed it to taste the medic’s fear of him.

Watching the other cower before him, Tarn pulled his cloak of lies about him, and managed to soften the look of his optics. Nothing he did could make himself un-intimidating, but he loosened his frame language as much as possible. "Shhh.. You're alright, it's okay..." he soothed, "Ratchet, I told you I didn't want to do it... You made me do it. Shhh... I'm not going to hurt you..." He didn’t touch Ratchet, thankfully, but he did lower himself uncomfortably close into the medic’s personal space. 

All right? _All right?!_ Did he fraggin' _look_ all right?! He wanted to smack the other away from him. Slag him and his false apologies! Ratchet wasn’t stupid and he didn’t believe for a second that Tarn was sincere. He didn’t want Tarn near him, didn’t want the mech touching him, didn’t want _anything_ to do with the DJD. But he once again held his glossa, instead choosing to turn his face away from the mech. It took all of his focus not to pass out again and slag if it didn’t bother him that he had no idea how much time had passed. Was it a few hours? Days? What did they do with Grimlock’s body? Where were they going now? So many thoughts swirled about in his processor. "What...W-what am I supposed to do now?" He finally asked, wondering what his purpose on the ship was going to be now that his servos had been destroyed.

"...Honestly, there isn't much you can do. You're well hated for your actions and put me and my group in an awkward position with Shockwave. I would be lying if I told you I wasn't annoyed with you as well," he spoke softly but honestly, "However, while your servos can't be saved— you can still be the medic you were before once we arrive at our destination.” Here Ratchet’s gaze whipped back up to him, though Tarn blithely continued, “I would just suggest not screwing up again– second chances are rare enough from us, Ratchet. Do not expect a third."

“You…you still want me to repair you?” He asked incredulously. Why would Tarn put so much faith in him, that he wouldn’t try to seek revenge?

Although Ratchet couldn’t see his optic ridges, the medic could still tell when Tarn lifted one at him with the way it shifted the plating around the bots optic. “Why wouldn’t I? That was why Vos bought you. And knowing what’s in store for you should you attempt anything against us again- I’m rather confident you’ll make the right choices in the future.” Ratchet could hear the smile in his voice, the smarmy bastard. Not that he could deny it. Ratchet didn’t have any other plans of displeasing the DJD. He didn’t regret what he did. Would he go back in time and do it again? Well, he'd be a lot harder pressed to do so and honestly he wasn’t sure, but going through the torture _once_ was worth it, he told himself. It had to be…

Tarn knew it would take time, but he was pleased to see that the medic wasn’t quite broken yet. Afraid, yes, understandably so. But he wasn’t a hollowed optic husk silently begging for death either. That meant there was still some personality that could be molded and manipulated. He reached out to gently pat the medic on his uninjured shoulder; “Get some rest Ratchet. Recover well.” Then he turned to take his leave.

Well. Kaon wasn’t sure what he was supposed to have learned from that exchange. Ratchet’s bitterness and hate for them oozed like a black, sickly wave from the mechs spark. As if the feelings weren’t mutual. The injuries he got from the dinobot were now for naught! Kaon waited until Tarn was well and truly gone before speaking up, “Honestly, you deserve nothing more than everything terrible possible..." he murmured at the medic, "just _had_ to frag with the slagging dinobot, didn't you?"

At the sound of that dreaded and much hated voice, Ratchet twisted his helm to stare across the room at Kaon. The old mech sighed and shifted on the berth, wincing as he tried to get himself to sit up. "Considering the dinobots are my creations...yes," he gave slowly and hoarsely. It might be a miracle if Kaon could understand him given how crackle-y his voice was.

"I chose to suffer to give him mercy." And that was all he had to say on the subject. Ratchet slowly shuttered his optics, then turned and looked at the IV that was in his arm. Now that he was feeling a smidge better, his tanks were rumbling for some energon. Even though the IV kept his body functional, it made the enrgon bypass his tank completely so that he didn’t have any in reserve.

Which, fine, okay. Kaon could understand that to an extent. He tipped his helm down to stare at Pet, the sparkeater lazing about across his lap. He wouldn’t exactly sacrifice himself for the thing, but he could understand wanting to give it mercy, should that eventuality ever come about. Didn’t do anything to mitigate his own anger towards the medic though. When he opened his mouth to continue, Nickel cut in, “Kaon, don’t even start. I don’t want any more hassle in my medbay, got it? I’m stressed enough as it is!”

“Oh please. The Autobot did something stupid and I got to miss out on all the fun. Not to mention it was his precious little dinobot that fragged me up! Now I can’t even rub it in his face how stupid he was?” He tossed up his servos. “I mean, fine okay. All I was gonna say was that yeah, he did some noble scrap. Doesn’t mean a lick to us though.” 

Nickel made a rude noise in the back of her throat and next they all knew, Kaon yipped as he was smacked across the thigh. “I meant it Kaon!” she tsked at him. 

“The slag? You just hit me!” Not that Kaon took it seriously; not even Pet reacted much except to nip at its masters plating in retaliation for jostling it. The interaction almost made Ratchet smile. It reminded him so much of when he was in the Autobots, reacting the same way when they did something so foolhardy. His spark ached for such times. He even missed putting the damned twins back together after their cursed jet-judo tricks. 

"Do you know how much longer it'll be before we land?" He asked, wanting to derail the little tiff. That and he knew their next stop was for medical supplies, for both Kaon and apparently himself? His question had Nickel pausing mid-tirade at Kaon. The small femme turned to look at him, servos planted on her hips. “It’s going to be a few days. Tarn doesn’t want to quantum jump with the two of you as messed up as you are. Which is _why_ I don’t want to hear any lip from _either_ of you! I don’t know how many times I have to say it- no fighting in the medbay! Period!”

Ratchet nodded his helm in understanding. "Understood. And...thanks. For fixing me up. You did a wonderful job," he gave awkwardly, the mech not very good at complimenting others. 

_Aft kisser_ Kaon mouthed from behind Nickel.

“Hmph. Well, don’t thank me just yet. Your recovery has a long way to go,” she said.  
***  
Days passed, each feeling long without much happening. Each of the DJD members came in, but only to visit Kaon. Helex only came in once, said a few words, then left. Whereas Tesarus came in nearly every day with some sort of card game to play with Kaon. Ratchet also now knew far more about Kaon’s interface life than he could have ever wanted to. Whenever Nickel wasn’t around the grinder enjoyed teasing Kaon until the mech started spitting charge.

The one time Ratchet protested, the only thing that saved him from an unwanted show was Nickel’s return to chase the big mech out. 

Vos came in a few times as well, but from his earlier experiences Ratchet didn’t think the two got along very much. Perhaps it was self-absorbed to think, but he suspected Vos’ visits had more to do with pointedly ignoring _him_ than actually visiting Kaon. 

Not that Ratchet was complaining. Besides the exhibitionist displays, he enjoyed being ignored by most of the DJD. He just wished the others would get on the same program and leave him the frag alone! For while he was blissfully ignored by the other three, Tarn, Nickel and- surprisingly- Kaon were up his damn aft! Now, Nickel he didn’t mind so much. He knew that she was no friend of his, but her demeanor was professional and she reminded him a lot of himself, actually. Her primary duty was to ship maintenance so she was not in the medbay often, but when she was he enjoyed her sassy company.

It was the other two that were driving him mad. Tarn visited every day. And every day, he spent an equal amount of time with both Kaon and himself. Sadistic fragger. Kept trying to get Ratchet to talk to him. Asking him what he did before the war, if he had any hobbies, who else he missed. And he kept _touching_ him. On the arms, his servos, sometimes his chest. Tarn tried touching his face once, but the pure panic and disgust Ratchet had felt must have shown since the mech had quickly retreated and never tried it again. Tarn’s attentions were far beyond creepy and constantly had Ratchet feeling on edge. 

That combined with Kaon’s nightly visits meant the medic barely got any rest. Now he understood what Vos meant when he said Ratchet had been bought as Kaon’s berthwarmer. His only consolation was that at least it wasn’t anything sexual. Apparently the mech couldn’t recharge without anothers frame cuddled against his own. It would explain what Kaon had been doing that one time in Vos’ room, though the other had clearly made a nuisance of himself to the other DJD members if they were pawning the task off to him. 

The first time he’d woken to Kaon in his berth had been unpleasant for everyone though. Ratchet had screamed and if it weren’t for the safety bars on the sides of the berth, he’d have shoved the injured mech right off. In retaliation, Kaon electrocuted him which in turn short circuited the spark monitor and made it flatline. When Nickel came wheeling in she need only to threaten calling Tarn in to get both mechs to behave. 

“Tch. If you’re worried about me trying anything trust me, Autobot- I know what they get up to in Swindle’s place and I don’t want any of your viruses,” Kaon had said. Tarn didn’t reprimand him when he’d come later that day and saw Kaon’s busted cheek strut. 

Needless to say Ratchet wasn’t happy about the arrangement, but it was made clear he had no choice. Not that Kaon seemed any happier about it either. The red and gold mech made it clear it was strictly for convenience. He’d much rather recharge with one of his brothers, but because of his injuries he had to stay in the medbay. So every night Kaon crawled into his berth to cuddle with him while Pet recharged at the foot of the berth. Then in the mornings, Nickel chased him back to his own berth for the cycle to begin again: Tesarus, then maybe Vos, and then Tarn’s dreaded visit before he was finally able to relax a little until Kaon was ready to recharge again. 

Of course, unbeknownst to him, even though Kaon’s recharge habits were part of it, another reason the red mech found himself in Ratchet’s berth every night was because of Tarn. The more Ratchet became used to their presence, to their touch, the more he would start to relax around them. To depend upon them for company. When your abuser was the only bot around to give you comfort, where else could you turn to? Even though Tarn could play the long game, he needed the cooperation of all his mechs in order to make this work…

Without his chronometer Ratchet just had to assume the others were functioning on an artificially based day/night cycle. Based on that assumption it took almost a week for them to reach their destination. 

They were now in orbit over Delphi and it was due time to get what they all needed.

On this day Nickel was on another maintenance check of the ship when Tarn came into the medbay. "We're going planetside," he said without preamble, looking first to Kaon then Ratchet, "you're both coming with."

The last bit gave Kaon pause -- _both_? Why was the stupid Autobot coming? Should he really be allowed off of the Peaceful Tyranny after what he’d done? Still, he knew it was not his place to question his leader so he didn’t. Besides, Kaon’s biggest concern at that moment was just getting out of the medbay! Yeah he understood his innards were being held in by some temp plating, but Primus be damned he was _bored_. And no one ever wanted to deal with a bored Kaon, which meant Nickel and Ratchet were just as eager for the twit to get gone. Not that Ratchet was going to get to enjoy any peace and quiet, apparently.

“…And how do you expect me to do that?” Ratchet asked slowly, the first words he’d spoken to Tarn in a week. Just because the mech made it a point to invade his space didn’t mean Ratchet had responded to him. He’d gone a whole week in excruciating pain. Even though Nickel did her best, his digits were still mangled not to mention his ankle joint was still healing. He could get up and hobble around a little, but without the ability to hold onto anything for support, he still wasn’t stable enough to walk far on his own. 

“Kaon is going to help you of course,” Tarn answered, his servo clamping down on Kaon’s shoulder before the mech could slip past him into the hall.

“What?” Kaon and Ratchet blurted at the same time.

"Err... Tarn? I'm _smaller_ than him, I can't carry him..." Kaon frowned, bemused by the suggestion. 

"Maybe not in your root mode, but your alt mode could easily support me if needed," Tarn pointed out.

At this Kaon grimaced; was Tarn serious or screwing with him? Tarn wasn’t one to joke around, but Kaon couldn’t fathom that this was a real suggestion he was being forced to consider. He looked back to his leader and noted by the rhythm of his spark that Tarn was indeed serious. " _Oh_..." he gave awkwardly though he tried to weasel in a protest, "but Tarn... I turn into an electric chair, not a _wheel_ chair."

"You can move in your alt mode, and it is the easiest way to ensure Ratchet can get around without re-injuring him," Tarn replied. It wasn’t like they had a wheelchair on board. No one had ever been injured enough to need one before and to suggest that the DJD might have needed one would have been laughable in the past. "I know you feel this is a stupid idea Kaon—"

"Wh-what? No, Tarn! Not at all I... I was just..." Kaon tried to defend, not wanting to make Tarn feel bad, "I never thought of it before so... I...You know... Let's just get this over with..."

The red mech turned to look at Ratchet, his face stinging with humiliation. Slagging _hated_ this Autobot so much! Taking a deep vent, Kaon had to reluctantly admit that wasn’t entirely true. He still didn’t like the Autobot, but a week of enforced close quarters with the mech had dulled the hatred down to ‘barely tolerate.’ But he could sense Ratchet’s vindictive amusement at his predicament so at this particular moment in time, he hated the mech. With a soft growl he approached and transformed into his alt mode for Ratchet.

As Kaon transformed, Ratchet couldn’t help but wince. Did…did they forget the whole reason why Kaon was in the medbay in the first place? That he shouldn’t be over-exerting himself for risk of tearing open his temp work? Not that Ratchet was going to complain or say anything. Ratchet was under no illusions; given the chance, Kaon would have gladly participated in the torture that brutalized him. So if the mech died, it was no shavings off his plating. Even better it would have been under Tarn’s orders so it wasn’t like he could be blamed for it.

He didn’t bother offering a protest, even though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea either. Just took a deep invent to brace himself, sat up, then slid off of the medberth. He stood on his good leg and balanced himself with the servo that had the most digits, and carefully pivoted around until he could sit on Kaon. It hurt, of course, but he sure as slag didn't want Tarn touching him to try and 'help.' At least Ratchet's task would be simple- he’d spent his free time with Nickel, getting her to do inventory for him so he’d know what supplies, besides anesthetics, they would need. Hopefully Delphi would have what they needed. Though he still wasn’t sure what Tarn had in mind for him or how he planned on Kaon being repaired, even if they did find replacement armor for him.

With that Tarn hummed then lead the way to the teleporter room; the Peaceful Tyranny did not have a space bridge, but the crew could make small jumps planetside with the teleporter. Then they could remote activate it to transport them back onto the ship. After the one incident where quarry tried to steal the ship, the DJD did not land the Peaceful Tyranny unless making a pit ship. 

The others were already there waiting for them. Kaon followed in his alt mode, his treads making the ride smooth at least. Vos looked both baffled and amused when Kaon and Ratchet came in; this was defiantly new. But before he could say anything Kaon snapped, "It's best to not ask, I'm not in the mood!"

Vos blinked and looked back to Helix and Tesarus a moment, making no comment. Tesarus, however, did not have the same tact. The grindor immediately burst into laughter when he saw Kaon rolling in with Ratchet. He didn't even have to say anything, the laughter was enough. Ratchet groaned and covered his face with the palm of one servo, though the two missing digits on it made it rather ineffective at actually hiding his face.

"Immature," Helex gurgled, the navy mech huffing out a bit of steam.

“Agreed. Tess, you should know better than to rile Kaon up,” Tarn chided, disappointed in the other mech. As if Kaon wasn’t feeling embarrassed enough about the situation. No doubt the smaller mech would try and get back at him later. It was like when Starscream challenged Megatron. Everyone knew how it was going to end and yet Starscream insisted on doing it. Even with Kaon’s ability he almost always lost to the bigger mech. Then again, Tarn wasn’t naïve to the way the pair chose to make up, so, perhaps they annoyed each other on purpose-

Tess tossed his servos up in the air; of course everyone fraggin’ ganged up on him! “Primus, ya’ll need to lighten up.” Not wanting to deal with any of his family members any longer, Helex strode forward to calibrate the teleporter. There was a generously sized disk in the middle of the floor; once he punched in the needed commands and coordinates, the disk glowed a soft blue. Knowing what to expect, Vos scampered up Helex’s side to curl about the bigger mechs shoulders. Helex stepped in fist, quickly followed by the others.

The first thing Ratchet noticed was that it was _freezing_. His frame began to shake almost immediately.

"Oh don’t worry Ratchet, we'll get you inside soon enough," Tess snickered. The group was teleported just outside the medical facility. They could have teleported in, but, well- that wouldn’t have made as much of an impression on their guest. Coming down to the planet, Kaon felt a bit more cheerful—he remembered the fun they had here. The revenge dished out that was very well deserved on Pharma and the rest of the Autobots in this pit. Slag, the fragger had even been hiding Sonic and Boom - two Decepticons on the DJD's list -from them! That medic was a piece of slag. Vos was silent for the most part but he kept his optics sharp. More than likely nothing had changed but one never knew if some nodes came here and decided to scavenge for parts. If there were, it would mean they could have a bit of fun while they were here; who wasn't about that sort of bonus?

The outside of the facility, while wind and ice battered, looked intact. Except for the scorched hole where the entrance door used to be. When they entered, however…

The cold air had preserved the bodies. Even though it was frozen over, a strong whiff of _death_ assaulted Ratchet’s olfactory senses the moment they crossed the threshold. Of course, that bothered him far less than what he _saw_. Tarn had been right. The DJD had been as gentle with him as a carrier with its sparkling compared to the level of gore and violence heaped upon the corpses inside. Ratchet gasped, taking in another mouthful of the foul air, and tensed in Kaon’s hold as he struggled to keep his energon down. 

The tight hold on his arm rests irritated the red mech; "Hey, hey, don't freak out yet; this is only the _entrance_. The _really_ good kills are deeper within," Kaon said with sadistic delight.

"Mmm, and aren’t the medical supplies right at the center of the facility?" Tess pointed out, watching gleefully as the medic squirmed in Kaon's seat. Good. Little traitor glitch deserved it! Ohhh they'd get to see that slagger Pharma again too. They had done some _real_ good work on him! 

Seeing that Ratchet was just becoming increasingly distressed the more they walked and spoke, Tess feigned sympathy and added in a soft voice, "Well now Ratchet, just be grateful none of these are _you._ Tarn told you we went easy on ya..." 

The old mech blanched and the way he was hunched up in Kaon made it look like he was about to hurl all over the place- 

And of course they were right. The scenery only grew worse the deeper within they went. The dead that were in the entrance of the place had obviously tried to crawl for their lives back towards the entrance. Meaning the DJD started their killings in the heart of the facility—Pharma had _let_ them inside and they tore this place apart from the inside out. Most victims had no idea and could not react in time to escape. As they walked, they passed by a mech that looked like somebot had tried to forcibly feed him another bots helm and Ratchet didn’t care how much pain he was in- he stumbled off of Kaon in order to hurl the contents of his tank (he didn’t want Kaon pissed at him for purging on him), the older mech whining in distress when his frame 'crunched' on top of a corpse. 

“Really now Ratchet. Surely you’ve seen worse during the war?” Tarn asked innocently. He went over to grab Ratchet by the back of his collar faring. Though the purple mech paused when something caught his attention-

"Kaon," he rumbled, pausing mid-grab of the pathetic little medic. "How many sparks are present?" 

Well, at least the medic was smart enough to get off of him before purging everywhere—though Tarn’s question was sufficient enough to distract him. He’d never considered the idea that someone else might be here, but when he actively focused, he was able to discern two more spark signatures. “Eight sparks,” he said quietly. “I can’t pinpoint them,” since he couldn’t see the layout of the halls, obviously. He’d been following close behind Tarn so as not to get lost. “But they’re not far.”

That’s what Tarn thought. He could have sworn he’d seen a shadow move from the corner of his optic. Not far indeed. Knowing the other bots likely knew they were here now, Tarn picked Ratchet up without further preamble, ignoring the mechs shout of pain when he shoved the other back onto Kaon. "Be careful," he gave softly, the tank reaching out to gently touch the back of Kaon's chair- where some of his armor was missing. The red mech was still damaged and he did not want to witness Kaon getting hurt again.

"They know we're here. But we know our way around more. Come on Vos, how about you and I cut them off so Helex and Tarn can grab them," Tess suggested. He hadn’t seen or heard anything, but if what Kaon said was true, they should be able to easily trap the two bots. Vos was reluctant to leave his warm perch, but in this situation he wasn’t going to argue. The lithe mech leapt from Helex’s shoulder to scurry down the hall Tarn indicated he’d seen the mech go, with Tess lumbering behind. 

"Hey, you're not going to make me sit out are you?" Kaon asked hastily, not liking the tone Tarn had used with him.

"You're vulnerable, if you got involved your next trip might not be as lucky as the medbay," Helex rumbled sympathetically.

 

Oh come on! First the dinobot, then Ratchet, now this?! He was missing out on all the fun! “I’d at least better be able to get some say in what happens to them…” He grumbled.

Helex and Tarn shared a good natured glance between them; “That can be arranged dear Kaon,” Tarn promised.

Ratchet shifted in his seat; he still felt nauseous and the pain in his extremities flared through his wiring. But he was aware enough to realize what was going on and a cold, seeping dread spread through him. “Tarn- please. Please, I don’t want to see this.” The cold feeling gripped his very spark as he was ignored, and Kaon laughed softly from under him. To be fair, Tarn was mostly distracted from the comms he received from Vos- apparently their prey was a couple of former Wreckers. The news that their prey were Wreckers came as a huge surprise- because really, what were they doing out _here?_ Plus that had to mean their ship was nearby. And while Tarn was sure they could take them out, well, the size of the Wreckers group kind of varied and it could seriously spell trouble for them. Especially with Kaon and Ratchet acting as liabilities.

::Yeah and badaft as I am, keepin' em from going after Vos aint easy!:: Tess snapped over the lines. The sudden sound of a laser pistol going off had all three mechs bolting after their allies- screw being left behind, Kaon was not going to sit idly by while he brothers were being attacked! Even if he didn’t really think through the fact he was still in alt mode. 

Tarn lead their group down a different hallway than the one Tesarus and Vos had gone down. From their previous murder spree here, Tarn knew a circuitous route that would take them down the opposite side of the hall he assumed where the fight was occurring. That way they could still box in the two Wreckers without Vos or Tess shepherding them their way. It would have been more fun the other way, but that option was clearly lost to them now.

When they finally caught up to their brothers, Tess was using his greater bulk to shield Vos from the laser fire. Vos was no weakling, but in the tight confines of the corridors, he had no cover and no time to transform into alt mode for Tess to use him. Of course, the duo- Twin Twist and Topspin- heard the others coming and one of them turned to fire. 

Tarn moved to a spot that was between Kaon and Helex. So he was ready to defend Kaon (and Ratchet) if something went off but still able to move to assist Helex if needed; the big smelter took the shot from the Autobot but like Tess, was able to shake it off.

As brave and bold as the two Wreckers were, they knew who they were dealing with. After Twin Twist had stumbled upon the DJD he had hastily commed his brother and run back to him. They needed to get back to their ship and get _out_ of here. Unfortunately, he’d heard the two DJD members stomping after him and he and his brother had no choice but to turn and fight, or risk getting caught in the back. If only they could have incapacitated the two DJD members, then they could have run, but…But now, it was too late. 

::Let’s give ‘em Pit at least:: Twin Twist sent to his twin.

In response, Topspin transformed into his alt mode. The corridor made it so he barely fit, the tips of his wings brushed against the walls. Heat blasted from his turbines as he shot down the short length of the hall straight into Helex.

“Urg!” Helex grunted. All four arms grasped Topspin’s frame- the other mech hadn’t been able to generate enough momentum to completely knock Helex over, but the force did send the smelter skidding back several feet and almost into Tarn. 

Simultaneously, Twin Twist transformed at the same time as his twin, his dual drill bits burrowing through the floor as if it wasn’t there, hiding the mech from view within seconds. “Slaggit!” Tess hissed, even though it gave Vos just enough time to finally transform into his alt mode. “Kaon?!” Tess shouted as he picked up Vos’ inert form. 

It was all happening way too fast. Ratchet didn’t know these two mechs well, but he _did_ know them. He’d repaired Kup and his crew often enough to recognize the two Autobots futilely fighting for their lives. ‘I can’t do this,’ he thought frantically to himself, memories of his own torturing blending with the twisted visages of the remains he’d seen within these very halls. Ratchet tried to lurch up, to get away. It was cowardly, he knew, but there was no way for him to help these bots and he couldn’t- couldn’t bear to witness their inevitable demise.

“Oh no you don’t,” Kaon hissed as two pairs of straps shot out to bind Ratchet’s arms and legs to his limb rests. If he could hold down Blackshadow, Ratchet had no chance of escaping Kaon. Kaon wasn’t going to risk the medic ruining things by getting himself involved in the scuffle. Tarn had already said he couldn’t participate so he’d do his best to keep other unwanted variable from becoming involved.Then, “He’s coming up right below you Tess!” Giving the grinder just enough time to jump back out of the way when Twin Twist shot up from underneath. In one smooth motion Tess brought Vos to bear and fired between the spinning drill bits at point blank range. There were dual screams of agony as the pain was shared between the twin’s branched sparks. Topspin’s turbines suddenly cut out and he would have dropped to the floor were it not for Helex’s hold on him. Though the living smelter seized the opportunity. Helex initiated a partial transformation, exposing his bubbling smelter. The heat from within was scorching even at a distance. 

Topspin tried to transform to force Helex into dropping him, but Tarn finally stepped in. Helex did indeed let go of the transforming mech, not wanting to lose his digits in the process. “I. Think. You. Should. Stop Now. It’s futile to resist,” Tarn hissed, his voice squeezing around the mechs spark- which, in turn, affected his twin as well. Not that Twin Twist was in any position to help. Tesarus had stomped onto the top of the mechs alt. mode, his long set of pincers tearing into transformation seams to prevent the mech from transforming again as well. Vos was very enthusiastically assisting, his slim digits easily able to slip inside the mechs internals to wreak havoc.

Well, so much for giving them Pit before they died…

Despite the torment, Topspin managed to lift a shaky servo- and lobbed a stun grenade straight into Helex’s still exposed melting pot. “No!” Tarn snarled as he missed the catch. Even though it would have been much worse had it been a hand grenade, the resultant explosion still damaged the smelter significantly. The liquid slag splashed up outside of it, burning both the indigo mech and Tarn. 

“Helex? Are you all right?” Kaon asked immediately when he sensed his brother’s spark flare with the sort of pain he’d only ever seen in one of their victims. Helex did not make any noise to indicate his pain, but then, he had always been a stalwart mech. Still, Kaon worried when Helex didn’t respond though he heard and sensed the other’s transformation back to root mode. 

In the meantime, Tarn had grabbed Topspin and forced the other mechs arms both behind his back. It would take more than this to break the two wreckers, and the jet twin defiantly lifted his helm to glare down the DJD member he had damaged. It was then he finally noticed Ratchet, the medic’s frame partly obscured by Helex’s slumped form. Confusion filled his optics and the spark bond- he must have been more badly damaged than he thought if he was seeing a _living_ Autobot in this place. 

Having ensured that Twin Twist could no longer transform, Tesarus dragged the mech down the hall by his treads to join the others. 

“Helex? Are you well enough to start us off?” Tarn asked, just as concerned as Kaon was over the others welfare. His own legs and side burned where the slag had splashed him, but Helex had obviously received the worst of it. Especially since most of it was internal damage. 

Helex growled and even though it hurt to move, he straightened up and gladly took up Tarn's offer to go first. He wanted Topspin since he was the one to throw the grenade, but since they were obviously mates or branched sparks from the way they had reacted, Twin Twist would still do. The DJD had enough experience to deal with prey in either form, but torturing a bot in alt. mode was still trickier. So he chose Twin Twist in order to allow his brothers more fun with the other. Helex approached then fully transformed. Here his secondary arms came in handy since they were still useable in his alt mode for him to capture the mech. 

Helex had a great deal of control over his smelter. He could melt a bot down almost instantly. Or he could roast them like an Iron Bull, slowly boiling them alive. Which was what he chose to do with Twin Twist. He shoved the mech entirely inside him and locked him up tight. Not only would the mech have to deal with the heat, but with the tight confines as well! He wouldn’t kill the other this way though, oh no...he'd burn the mech up until he felt like he was going to die and then spit him out for the fun to continue. Until then his brothers could play with Topspin. 

Twin Twist’s screams could just barely be heard from within Helex’s locked pot; “Ahhh! You s-s-sick monsters! Let my brother go!” Topspin screamed. His frame writhed in Tarn’s hold, not all of the movement voluntary. 

With Tarn out of the way, there was now nothing to block Ratchet from seeing what was happening to his fellow Autobots. His vocalizer clicked in distress as he struggled to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to beg them to stop, but each time the words bubbled up in his throat, he'd recall his own torment and fearfully kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to see this, or hear it, or have any involvement with it! As impotent as it was he still wriggled in Kaon’s hold, desperate to escape witnessing this. 

"You already wasted your 'mercy ticket' on Grimlock," Kaon mocked before adding, "besides, we don't need them alive like Grimlock; so I think this will be a good show to give you an idea how merciful our group was with you Rat... Cause I heard that they were quite 'gentle' on you..." And the more Ratchet struggled, the tighter the arm and leg restraints became. "The medical supplies aren't going anywhere! So sit down and _relax_ ," he ordered.

"I'm not asking for mercy for them!" Ratchet protested as he tugged on Kaon's restraints, the old mech whining softly again. He felt absolutely positively _pathetic_ and gross for trying not to help the two Wreckers, but...but...

"I know you're going to kill them, I know. Kaon, please, I don’t want to watch this!" The only feeble form of protest he could make was to offline his optics. He couldn't watch this, he _refused._ Though he still got to hear everything and Kaon would no doubt delight in the fear/stress/anguish that the medic was feeling in his spark.

“You hear that Tarn? Ratchet’s not asking for mercy for _these_ Autobots. I guess that’s permission for us to do as we please,” Kaon cackled. 

“R-ratchet?” Topspin managed to stammer through the pain. So he hadn’t been seeing things? Ratchet was actually here? But…how? _Why_? Dim blue optics flickered weakly as they sought out the medic. Why was Ratchet with the DJD? He could tell it was unwillingly, but- why wouldn’t he even look at them? Why wasn’t he saying anything? He couldn’t think straight. But if he was going to die, he needed to pass his message on. No doubt Ratchet wouldn’t be able to do anything with the knowledge, but, “Ratchet, the…the L-lost Light…there—Urk!” 

Tesarus had speared through the mechs throat with one of his pincers. "And this is the might of the Wreckers, huh? Haha, pathetic," Tess taunted, using his other pincer to slowly widen the hole in the others throat. While it might have killed a weaker species, nope- not their kind. Afterall, Helex liked to feed bots their own processors while they were still alive; they were a very hardy species. "Much as I love to hear you scream, your brother is doing a fine job of that~" He cooed, yanking both pincers out, along with the bots vocalizer. 

Whatever the flier had been trying to say, Ratchet would never know now. 

At the same time, Helex finally allowed Twin Twist out. The mechs outer plating had started to melt and was soft and hot to the touch. 

"Vos turn," Helex rumbled, inviting his brother to take his turn. 

Tarn watched over the session silently and hummed in thought of the progress so far as Twin Twist was spat out and the turn passed onto Vos. The scientist knew he couldn't touch the melted twin without burning himself. But, Tess was still holding the other one tight. As Topspin was brought near, Twin Twist let out a warning growl, "...Don't... Fragging touch... him... slag-lickers..!" his optics glaring daggers at Vos and Tess. Not that Vos paid him any mind. He straddled Topspin's chassis and began to dig his servo into the hole in his throat Tess had made. The level-headed twin gagged and tried to jerk away but the sniper rifle didn't care as he stretched out the hole and made it bigger and deeper. Once he could, he began to reach his servo fully inside. Tess had already torn the others vocalizer out, so he was searching for the end of the mechs glossa. 

Suddenly Twin Twist got a second wind and tried to roll towards Vos. Tried being the operative word. Even though touching the others hot plating burned, Tarn lashed out lightning fast, his pede kicking straight into the others side. “Ah, ah. You need to cool off and wait your turn,” Tarn tutted, even going so far as to wag a digit at the mech as if he were some disobedient mechanimal.

“Go slag yourself!” The mech hissed, even as his frame shuddered violently. Tarn’s pede had easily gone through his melted armor and exposed his inner mechanisms. 

With his brothers watching his back, Vos merrily ripped Topspin’s glossa out. Then the mech removed his own face, the drills and spikes popping out from the inner mechanism. Topspin could only gurgle up energon as he tried to scream.

“T-tess turn,” Vos finally warbled. There was more he wanted to do, but they had been at this long enough for the sniper to tell that these bots weren’t going to last much longer. Pity they were bonded; the feedback loop of pain was no doubt stressing their systems out much faster than normal.

“Finally!” Tess crowed. He dropped Topspin like the pile of trash he was, allowing the mech to thrash around on the floor instead as he went over to Twin Twist. “All right Kaon. Promise is a promise. How ‘bout you tell me what to do to this lowlife?”

Kaon's coils crackled excitedly when Tess asked him to make a decision—he was slightly worried none of his brothers had listened to him. Sure, it wasn't as fun as being able to partake, but it was better than nothing. "Okay, well, I was thinking along the lines of tearing out his fuel lines and hanging him up by them; followed with kneecapping the glitch and slag why not make him a pin cushion while you're at it?" His voice muffled from within his alt. mode; without a set of speakers to talk through his voice sounded as if it was originating from within his seat.

Though the red mech decided to be an aft and added, "Oh and since _Ratchet_ said he’s not asking for mercy for them, why not do something a little special for the rookie?” It didn't help that Kaon was loud enough that the Wreckers heard him and it caused Twin Twist to rev in anger. He wasn't as reasonable as his brother, so he actually thought Ratchet might have joined the DJD of all things! He was hurting and pissed so it wasn’t as if he was in the right mind either.

Hatred and disgust simmered in the medic's spark, but there was also a sense of defeat. Twin Twist and Topspin would just be more casualties of this war. Megatron might have 'won' but their kind would never stop killing each other until they went extinct...And bots like the DJD would ensure their species went out with a kick and a scream, rather than peacefully. If he was to be forced to live, in order to keep his sanity he had to shut everything out that he could. So he kept his optics off and hummed quietly to himself, trying to drown out the noise of the torture. He didn’t even try to deny Kaon’s assertion. There was no point. The Wreckers would be dead soon enough and so what they thought of him now didn’t matter. Everything felt numb and the inhibitor twitched in his helm as thoughts of death and pain swirled about in his processor again.

"Sure thing," Tess gave easily. "You heard the mech," he directed towards Twist. Tesarus punched the mechs softened armor. It took a few blows, much like how Vos had worked Topspin’s throat open to rip out his vocalizer, Tess was making a hole he could fit his servos into in order to pry open the plating to reach inside. It would be harder to fulfill the request with Twin Twist in alt. mode but he already had a plan for that. Once he could he reached one servo inside the others back to fiddle around with the mechanisms. Unlike his brother, Twin Twist could still scream as Tesarus plucked at a bundle of cabling that forced his mangled frame into transforming. Before the mech could react, Helex stepped in and worked in concert with his brother so Tess could reach back inside. 

He used the cavity to reach through to the muscle cables of Twist’s arms- and ripped out the strands in his arms through his back and _yanked_ , forcing his arms up over his helm. "See look, an ugly little marionette," Tess sneered, holding Twist up by his cables and making his frame sway back and forth like some demented doll. Since he had nothing to hang the other up on, he held the mech out to Helex. “Mind holding this for me while I get some rebar to decorate him?”

This whole time, Tarn had been mostly silent as he watched the proceedings. Honestly it all bored him and he felt his mind wandering as his brothers slaked their thirsts. His gaze kept flicking back and forth between the torture and Kaon and Ratchet. 

"Okay, _stop_ humming it's distracting!" Kaon hissed, annoyed. He was trying to enjoy what he could with today! He was upset enough with the fact he wasn't with the group torturing the Wreckers! He’d ignored Ratchet’s humming and rocking as best he could but it was finally getting on his last diode! 

“Indeed,” Tarn said quietly as he approached the pair. One servo gently squeezed both of Ratchet’s cheeks, forcing the mech to look at him. “I want you to watch their deaths Ratchet. I want them to die knowing you watched and did nothing to help them.” His digits squeezed harder; “Or we can bring you back to the cells. Your choice~” 

Tears gathered at the corner of Ratchet’s optics. Hate, hopelessness, fear- he grit his denta and offlined his optics once more as the washer fluid dripped and trailed down his cheeks against Tarn’s digits. Without a word, he online his optics again to stare into Tarn’s- then flicked them aside to where Helex was holding Twist. “Good mech,” he crooned. He released Ratchet’s face, then gently pat it.

It was then that Vos finally took his mask off of Topspin’s face. Not that he much of one left, now. His optics were intact but his faceplates and pistons were carved off to the bare frame of the helm. His lips and nose were gone, his denta standing out starkly against the shredded, bleeding mess of his protoform. With Tess spearing his brother through with bits of other Autobots, there was not much life in either mech. But Topspin did manage to get out one last thing, “You know... Wreckers... Are known... For carrying explosives... Why do you think... We didn't have any... On us?" he asked before he paused to gather himself, "You might... Want to consider hurrying... Over to Messentine... Decepti-scum..."

The implications of his words made each DJD member stiffen. Tarn slowly straightened, then turned back around to face the two dying bots. His optics were cold as he approached Topspin. Usually he sang a mech to death during the times he took a turn. Not today. It would no doubt be a mercy to the twins, but Tarn didn’t have the patience. In one deceptively easy movement he grasped Topspin’s helm between his servos and _twisted _. The mechs helm tore completely off at the neck, with energon spraying everywhere. Helex dropped Twin Twist’s now equally dead frame. Ratchet cried out softly in horror, and if he could have he’d have purged again. But the DJD ignored him as Tarn turned to face his brothers. “…Let us get our supplies and go. We’ve wasted enough time here.”__

__“Tarn. If what he said is true—” Kaon began anxiously._ _

__“We will get the supplies we _came_ for. Whatever’s been done, is done,” Tarn snapped. _ _

__With the two finally taken care of, Helex hobbled over to where Kaon and Ratchet were. Even though he was gentler than Tess would have been, he still roughly grabbed Ratchet by the back of his collar armor and hauled him up, Kaon’s restraints snapping back so Helex could force the bot out of the little ball he'd tried to hunch himself into. "Enough," Helex gave, unsympathetically. "Have work to do," he chided the Autobot, reminding the medic why he'd been brought here._ _

__Though he didn’t place Ratchet back in Kaon's seat. He was tired of waiting and just wanted to get looked at by Nickel. So he supported the medic in his binary arms and half supported/half dragged him the rest of the way through the facility, with the others obviously following behind. With Ratchet gone, Kaon was able to transform back into root mode which made going through the dead frames easier._ _

__Ratchet was just so emotionally and psychologically drained he only blanched when he felt the twins' energon rubbing off of Helex's frame and onto him. He felt delirious and even as they went further and further into the hospital, and thus saw more and more gruesome things, he could hardly drudge up the capacity to react._ _

__"So, what should we take _Ratchet,_ " Tess prompted the shell-shocked mech once they reached the center of the facility._ _

__Helex had to give him a little shake in order for Ratchet to respond- "Those two boxes are labelled sedatives and painkillers. Rust creams would be useful...Can never have too many mesh bandages, staples, and sealants so take however much you can carry for those. IV bags. You don’t have a spark monitor either. Might not ever use it, but could be useful. As would the ASD (Automatic spark defibrillator) pack out by the front door. Extra tubing and circuit boards," the medic rattling off a list of supplies he'd had off the top of his head as well as some extra stuff that he saw in the medbay that hadn’t been in mind at first. "There should be a cryogenesis chamber filled with coolers somewhere in here. That’s where the spare parts are kept. Take _anything_ you can carry."  
While the others snapped to it, each mech anxious to get off Delphi to go check on their home base, Ratchet propped himself up against a berth that wasn’t covered in too much gore. He stood there with his optics offline, taking deep vents, trying to get his spark and processor to stop racing. _ _

__Tarn separated from the others as he had a specific target in mind. Once he retrieved the desired items though, he was just as diligent as the rest of his subordinates in locating and carrying as much of the medical supplies as possible. He also made sure to grab one of the least degenerated corpses and tossed it over his shoulder- the bot was closer in size to Kaon than Crankcase had been so hopefully they could use the bots armor for Kaon’s repairs._ _

__"All right. I can’t carry any more slag so that better be it!" Tess huffed, irritated. Ratchet didn’t bother to point out they could bridge back to the ship to drop what they had off then come back for more. Just silently nodded his helm and stayed curled up against the berth._ _

__"Are you all ready?" Tarn asked looking over the other DJD members._ _

__~ Yes, we got everything we could manage here, the chamber was a tad empty, but it had just enough~ Vos replied with the others dittoing his response. Satisfied that they had all they could carry for now, Tarn ordered the ship to teleport them back. The DJD clustered around Ratchet since the medic didn’t look capable of moving to them. Once they were all close enough the ship would be able to target their signatures and send them all back to the teleporter room._ _


	11. Chapter 11

Once they were back inside the ship, Tarn gave out his orders, “Helex, report to Nickel to have your injuries tended to. Vos, leave your supplies here. Tess and I will bring them to medbay; head to the deck and set course for Messantine.” Tarn sent Kaon along with Helex as well since the other was too small to be of much help in carrying the medical supplies. Sure, he could have taken Vos’ stash with him, but without the Pet to help him navigate there was a chance Kaon would have just dropped everything. 

Rather than risk Kaon transforming again, Tarn abandoned his corpse for now and picked Ratchet up, the medic ‘oofing’ as he was tossed over the tanks shoulder. “Tarn-!” he squawked indignantly.

“I don’t have time for your stubbornness right now, Ratchet. Your ankle is still useless and Helex and Kaon are both too injured to carry you. So _hush_ ,” Tarn growled in a tone that instantly made the medic shut his mouth. It was the first time Tarn had sounded truly _angry_. Even after he’d killed Grimlock Tarn had mostly been disappointed. He certainly never raised his voice against Ratchet before. Whatever Messantine was to the DJD must surely be important if Topspin was able to get them so worked up about it.

"We've got some presents for you Nickel," Tess called out as he entered the medbay just behind Helex and Kaon with the first load of supplies. 

“Oh?” the little femme called as she wheeled over to the group. “What did you get me?”

Helex headed over to the closest counter so he could start emptying his subspace out. However, Tess- that immature glitch!- tsked and shook his helm; "Sit your big aft down, Helex. Let Nickel look at you first before you hurt yourself worse." The mech tattling on him and acting oh-so concerned. Helex growled and glared daggers at his so called brother.

Autobot-blue optics snapped over to the living smelter. "Helex..." Nickel began, her tone already scolding and stern, "you _know_ better! Get to that berth right now so I can check you out!"

Helex groaned and continued to glare at the snickering Tess, but he obeyed. He had at least wanted to unload the supplies he had first since his subspace was fit to bursting, but now that Nickel was in ‘over protective carrier mode,’ he wouldn’t be able to twitch a digit without her harping at him. He partly transformed in order to give Nickel access to his smelter. While the femme obviously wouldn’t be able to touch it without being burned (Helex could control its temperature, but could not fully turn it off), there was some burn damage to the area around it.

When Tarn came in not long after, he placed Ratchet on an open berth as gently as he could. Ratchet, for his part, curled up on the berth as soon as he was set down into a fetal position, covering his face with his servos. He felt so sick and guilty….Twin Twist and Topspin died hating him. And for good reason. He _should_ have begged for mercy for them. Even if he knew they wouldn’t be granted it. But he was a coward. Too afraid of being hurt again. And seeing what had been done to them? It was a constant struggle not to break down again.

If Tarn thought he was going to get away with taking Ratchet and Kaon planetside while they were still hurt without Nickel’s permission though, he had another thing coming! "And Tarn, I'm sure you took Ratchet and Kaon for some good reason you're planning to tell me, but look—they’re still _injured_. It was a really dumb move! Just …why couldn't you have asked me for a list of supplies needed! It would have been easier and let’s not forget the fact you took way too long down there! You _know_ how much anxiety I get when all of you do that!" Nickel ranted.

"Well I dunno about Kaon, but we took Ratchet down there because we thought he might be _lonely._ So we took him to see some friends...plus, I think Tarn got him a little gift too," Tess piped up from the back, the mech unloading his supplies, though he didn’t unpack the crates or put them away since he didn’t know where everything went.

“Tess…please do shut up,” Tarn sighed, wishing he could pinch the bridge of his nose to ease some of the tension.

But since it had been brought up, Tarn reached into his subspace- and pulled out a pair of servos to place on the table beside Ratchet’s berth. “Flatline has already been commed. As a special favor to us, he will meet us before we reach Messatine to replace your servos for you, Ratchet. As I promised- you will get to be a medic once more.” 

There was a tense moment of silence in the medbay as Ratchet stared glossy opticked at the pair of servos beside him. 'No More!' He shouted in his mind. He wanted to beg the DJD to stop. They had tortured him, that was meant to be his punishment for killing Grimlock! Why must they continue to torment him this way? Because he wasn’t stupid- he recognized those servos right away. And there was a sick, sick part of himself that was _glad_ he would have forged medics servos again. Yet knowing where they had come from and whom was giving them to him-

Tarn decided that the lack of reaction was better than the other freaking out or crying again. He really hated when the other did that. Still-

“You should show a little gratitude, Autobot. Tarn didn’t have to go out of his way like that for you,” Kaon sneered from where he was seated. Since he couldn’t see the tools he wouldn’t be much help in organizing them. So the whole time he’d been silently seated on one of the spare counters, with Pet seated underneath him. The sparkeater hadn’t come with them to Delphi since they hadn’t expected to run into trouble, and thus had remained with Nickel. The femme hated the creature, but it preferred to remain close to a living mech than be on its own. 

“No, no Kaon. It’s fine. I’m sure he’s feeling a bit…overwhelmed right now,” Tarn said, waving his servo to interrupt Kaon. He remained near Ratchet’s berth for another second or two before turning to leave; there were more supplies still waiting in the teleportation chamber to be transferred here. Ratchet just offlined his optics; there was no way in Pit he’d be able to recharge, but he just…couldn’t do anything else. His emotions and state of mind were in tatters. 

“Tch. Whatever. Tess, you almost done?” Kaon demanded, pissed that he’d been given the brush off. _Again_.

“Well, with _this_ load, yeah. But there’s more slag back in the other room.”

Kaon made his opinion on that quite clear; the only stuff left was what Tarn and Vos had carried in and it wasn’t like Vos could carry a lot. So Tarn could damn well handle the rest. Kaon was _bored_ and he was irritated so Tess knew what that meant-

“Kaon, please,” Nickel sighed, unable to hide her disgust. “You’re already an idiot for going planet side,” and Primus help him she found out he had transformed too, “I’m _not_ fixing your valve right now if Tess tears it again!”

“Gah! I’m not made of fraggin’ glass! Swear to Pit everyone’s getting on my last diode!” Kaon shouted as he hopped down from the counter. “That’s it. Tess if you don’t meet me in my room in five minutes you can frag _yourself_ ad infinitum!” He clucked his glossa and as he stormed out of the room, Pet following right beside him. Nickel tossed her servos up in the air, exasperated.

“Nnng Nickel, why?” Tess groaned. If he didn’t follow after Kaon he was never going to hear the end of it. If he did though, he’d never hear the end of it from Tarn. Actually, no. Tarn would just give him that _dissapointed_ look of his for shirking his duties. 

“Hey don’t get mad at me because you’re all idiots!” She huffed. At least Helex sat quietly while Nickel worked. Even though he didn't like it, he could handle the maintenance being done and really there was enough drama without him opening his mouth to add to it. Though seriously, with how notorious their group was you wouldn't think they were so skittish about basic medical procedures. It was almost kind of comical. 

Tesarus hastily dumped out the rest of his subspace before deciding to go after Kaon. Mech was probably just upset he kept missing out on all the torture and had pent up energy. Tess would be doing everyone a favor if he fragged it out of the mech, so Tarn couldn’t get too mad, right?

When Tarn did return with the spare parts for Kaon, he did question where the pair had run off to. When Nickel answered Tarn couldn’t help but wonder if he was leader of an elite group of murderers, or a daycare center. “Very well. I suppose I shall finish bringing the supplies then.” Not like there was much left. It was still annoying though. 

“Thanks Tarn. You mind putting the spare parts in the cryogenesis chamber first though? Don’t want them defrosting!” Since no one else was clearly going to help her, Tarn muffled another sigh and did as asked. To be fair there were quite a few T-Cogs in the mix; no doubt the last batch Pharma had harvested for him before the mech snapped and decided to betray them instead. There were also several preserved limbs, brain modules, energon pumps…Tarn couldn’t help but wonder why whole limbs were saved, but after some thought figured that perhaps the synapses and connectors inside, say, a bots servos might be too finicky to replace with other parts. The corpse he had brought back would need to get stuffed inside too; it had been left out for quite some time, but the chill of Delphi had preserved it well enough, he supposed. He hoped so anyway, for Kaon’s sake. 

Once Flatline replaced Ratchet’s servos perhaps he could finish Kaon’s repairs too before returning to New Kaon. Megatron was being very generous in offering up one of the few Decepticon aligned medics that were available, but Tarn did not think Ratchet was in the correct state of mind to be performing extensive repairs on any of his team. Originally Tarn had planned for Flatline to meet them at Messentine, but with the possibility of the Wreckers having wrecked the place, Tarn didn’t want to take that chance. He’d rather have Ratchet and Kaon repaired _before_ they reached their base; otherwise if he fell into one of his berserker rages he might not think to have them repaired at all before the next hunt. 

At least once he was done inputting the coordinates into the ships navigation system, Vos returned to the teleportation chamber to assist Tarn in carrying the rest of the supplies to the medbay. While some of the parts had been small enough to fit inside their subspaces, most of them were too large and had needed to be carried in their original boxes. In the meantime, Nickel continued her work on Helex. The damage wasn’t completely outside her realm of care, but the slag in his smelter made it all the more tricky. 

Tarn and Vos completed their task long before Helex’s repairs were done though, and the two retired from the medbay to allow Nickel to work, and Ratchet to rest. 

Once his abdomen was taken care of though, Helex was quick to make his escape. As soon as he was given the okay he hid his smelting pot away and lumbered off the berth, leaving Nickel alone with Ratchet.  
***  
Thankfully, unlike the trip to Delphi, there wasn’t a long a wait for Flatline to arrive. Since his ship was not encumbered by the infirm, the black and red medic utilized his ships warp drive to reach the Peaceful Tyranny within a matter of hours. All it took was two jumps from Cybertron to the coordinates Tarn had provided him.

“I thank you for coming on such short notice. I understand you must be busy, given your position.” Tarn walked alongside the Decepticon medic. After their ships docked together, the DJD leader had gone to personally greet the mech. 

Flatline waved the other off; “When Megatron tells you to go somewhere, you find yourself in sudden excess of time,” he drawled. Without turning his helm to look at the other, Flatline’s optics swept Tarn’s imposing frame from the side. “You know, when you called to request emergency repairs, Megatron was rather worried it was one of _you_ who needed me.” With his mouthplate in the way one could not see it, but the smirk was evident enough by the crinkle of his optics and his tone. “Suffice it to say we were both surprised it was to repair a _slave_.” When this garnered no reaction from the purple mech beyond his continued staring, Flatline frowned. “…You do realize you should not even have Ratchet, correct?”

“I did find it rather odd that the Autobot’s CMO was up for auction. Then again, Soundwave owns Jazz, so no. Why shouldn’t I?” At that moment the pair reached the doors to the medbay, but before Tarn opened the door, Flatline reached out to stay his servo. The bold action earned the medic a glare from the tank. 

Flatline quickly withdrew his servo and said, “All medical and scientific personnel were supposed to have been given to Shockwave. Primus knows the Decepticons have enough heavy hitters and manual laborers, but doctors? Not so much. Megatron had assumed Ratchet died in the explosion that killed Optimus.” 

There was a beat as Tarn silently pursed his lips in thought. “…So what does that mean? Megatron made no mention of me returning Ratchet when we spoke. Nor did he mention any of this at all.”

“He wasn’t going to,” Flatline shrugged. “You bought the mech and Primus knows how you’ve fragged him up by this point. So you can keep him. But should you ever tire of him, do keep in mind that Shockwave would make ample use of him.” 

Tarn had no intention of killing Ratchet, but he knew a threat when he heard one. He was being allowed to keep Ratchet because of the favor he had with Megatron- and because their leader was right. The torture and conditioning Ratchet was going through at the moment would make him useless in anyone else’s servos. Though not for the reasons he was sure Megatron assumed. But should Ratchet die, his loss of knowledge would not be taken lightly. “…For what it’s worth, Vos purchased him from Swindle. Perhaps he should be looked into, in case he is hiding other valuable goods.”

Then he palmed open the door, allowing them both to enter. “Speaking of Shockwave, however, I have a bit of a…gift, for him. I’ll have Helex and Tesarus assist you in bringing it aboard your ship.”

“What sort of gift?” He wondered. 

“The kind you shouldn’t question,” Tarn answered, before jerking his helm towards one of the medberths. In it, Ratchet was sitting up, energon cube held awkwardly between the palms of his mangled servos. He was watching the pair silently as they entered, armor slicked down fearfully against his frame. 

“Here’s your patient, good doctor,” Tarn chuckled. 

Flatline invented sharply at the state the other medic was in. He knew of the DJDs reputation of course, but this? It was ridiculous! Why bother trying to repair that mess? He side opticked the purple mech once more, but decided to keep his snide comments to himself. What the mech chose to do with his property was his business, he supposed, but once he finished Ratchet’s repairs the two of them were going to talk. Flatline wasn’t going to keep coming out here to repair the mech every time the DJD decided to torture him! 

Right, well, he ought to get to work he supposed. As he approached the other medic, Ratchet’s armor tightened further against his frame, but he otherwise didn’t react. “Right. Let’s put this down, shall we?” He reached out and gently took the energon cube from Ratchet’s servos. “You mentioned before you have a nurse. Where is she? I’ll need assistance in prepping for surgery.” Not to mention he had no idea where any of the supplies were on this ship. Oh, they better have everything he needed or he was going to be so fragged. 

“Nickel should be here momentarily. Since there’s nothing else for me to do, I will go ensure your other patient is ready when you’re done, and have Shockwave’s gift transferred to the brig of your ship,” Tarn informed him. 

While waiting for Nickel to arrive, Flatline performed an examination on Ratchet to judge the extent of his injuries. The older mech flinched and grimaced as he was forced to move, but otherwise reacted very little to the procedures. Flatline had seen his fair share of broken mechs. Pity they hadn’t known of Swindle’s dealing with the DJD before now. They could have rescued the mechs brilliant mind. But now he feared it was too late. 

When Nickel finally did arrive, she fetched all the supplies he asked for and then they sedated Ratchet for the procedure. When Ratchet next woke, he would have perfectly functional, forged medics servos again. Not even Flatline could claim to have such. 

Replacing Ratchet’s servos took hours. Not to mention needing to replace his chest plate, as well as completing repairs on his ankle and shoulder. Kaon’s repairs weren’t nearly as complicated as the servo replacements, but because Flatline had to strip the corpse for parts himself, it still took nearly as long. 

By the time Ratchet woke, Flatline was already gone. Along with his gruesome present for Shockwave. 

When he did wake it was with a low, deep groan. The anesthesia made him groggy and momentarily disoriented. His optics felt heavy- which was odd considering their kind didn’t have eyelids or anything. But it took a few tries for him to boot them up. When he did though, Ratchet slowly and carefully lifted his arms up. And just- stared. At Pharma's- _his_ new servos. They were still blue though. Of course he couldn’t count on common courtesy for the Decepticons to re-paint his servos for him.

Still; Ratchet slowly curled his digits and flexed the wrists, testing the range of his new servos. They were a little tight and still sore. His frame would need to integrate them more. And yeah, there were a few tweaks he'd like to do to them. Already he knew they were different though. Every forged medic had different servos. While Ratchet didn’t have access to his T-Cog anymore, he knew Pharma had upgraded his to have different medical tools than Ratchet. But at least he _had_ servos again. 

He glanced around the medbay once he finished examining himself, wondering where the Decepticon medic had gone. He couldn’t have been passed out that long, could he? He _really_ hated not having access to his chronometer and knowing how much time he kept missing. 

There was a ‘click’ followed by the now-familiar sound of Nickel’s wheels rolling across the smooth floor.

“Don’t you ever leave the medbay?” He rasped.

The minibot ‘eeped!’ as she jumped, optics wide as her gaze jumped up towards Ratchet. “Ratchet!” She cried, “We didn’t think you’d be up yet.” She putted closer, and offered the older mech a hesitant smile. Not only was Ratchet speaking, but he’d actually tried teasing her! That was a very, very positive sign compared to the mechs near comatose state, previously. 

But Ratchet’s gaze wasn’t on her as he glanced about the medbay. “Where is everyone?” 

Nickel came up to Ratchet’s berth, then offered up the datapad she had been carrying with her. Ratchet took it and as he examined the health chart- his health chart- she explained. “Flatline finished working on you, then repaired Kaon. But…Tarn felt that perhaps you might need a bit more uninterrupted rest.” She fiddled with her servos a bit, waiting for Ratchet to get to the pertinent information on his chart.

“…I’ve been offline for two whole days?” He asked quietly. If she had expected him to get angry, well, the opposite was the case. Ratchet wasn’t sure if he could feel happiness any more, but he _was_ relieved. Tarn had signed off on him using some of their precious sedatives in order for him to get some non-nightmare infused recharge? And he got to avoid the DJD for two whole days? Fine by him. It might explain why he was feeling at least somewhat more normal. He would not so easily forget what he saw on Delphi, but _physically_ he felt better than he could ever remember. The searing pain that had been his constant companion for the few days between his torture and now was stark in its absence. 

“That still doesn’t answer where the others are though.”

“Ah. Well. Right now they’re on Messentine, checking out the base.”


	12. Chapter 12

Once Kaon’s and Ratchet’s repairs fully integrated into their systems, the DJD would finally be able to use their jump drive again. As it was, it was pure _torture_ for the group to have to travel to Messentine the traditional way. Ratchet was lucky to have been comatose the whole time; the tension had been palpable and no doubt the more eccentric of the group would have just loved any excuse to take their frustration out on the Autobot.

After all, the Wreckers had no reason to bluff them before their death. Which meant the group was going to find damage to either the base or the mines; or both.

When they did arrive it was decided to dock the ship rather than teleport planet side. Depending on what they found they might remain on base; and no matter what the Peaceful Tyranny could use some fuel. Since the docking area was connected to the base on Messentine, it would be simpler to first check over the base and then head for the mines.

"Kaon?" Tarn asked-- it should be clear what he expected the other to do.

Kaon was silent for a few moments before shaking his helm, "No, I'm not sensing anything. It's only us, Tarn." This time, since they had no idea what to expect, Kaon held onto the Pet’s leash. Should the base be damaged the sparkeater would help him safely navigate. Not to mention if there were any nasty surprises inside. Even if there weren’t any other ensparked creatures inside, that didn’t necessarily mean they were alone or that it hadn’t been booby-trapped. 

Tarn took a deep invent before glancing at each of his subordinates, “Tesarus, Vos, Kaon; I want you to scout the base and report all damage; Helex, I want you to come with me to the mines," he ordered. The DJD leader choose Helex as he was the oldest surviving member besides himself and also the most level-headed. That way, if he did end up snapping, the living smelter was the only mech who knew what to do to calm him down. 

With their directives given, the group entered the main lobby of their home. The door was still locked so clearly the Wreckers had not exited this way. In fact, there wasn’t any evident damage to the outside of their base. Not from the front, at least. Given the way they had left Delphi, however, the lack of noticeable damage did nothing to comfort the group.

Helex's tank rumbled and Tess grit his denta when they did enter and immediately noticed their things had been rifled through. "...Guess we ought to invest in some more security," Tesarus growled, heading over to an overturned cabinet to right it and ensure nothing important had been broken. The foyer of their base had once been lovingly decorated. Organic carpeting had once greeted them upon entering; now it was shredded beyond recognition. Cabinets lined with trophies from kills and throughout the war, smashed into the ground. Tarn’s cherished chandelier, taken from the Opera house of Iacon itself- gone. This was, after all, their home. The Peaceful Tyranny was nice, but it was still just a ship. But now…

They had...well, they had always assumed their reputations would keep bots away from their turf. And those that didn’t know about them, their base did have some security. Tess had to guess that somewhere in their base was a huge hole the Wreckers had blown into it in order to get in. But maybe now they ought to invest in some, like, tripwires or something to alert them of a break-in while aboard the ship. 

Vos couldn't really express much due to his surprise. He hadn’t known what to expect, but despite the Wreckers claims he hadn’t believed things would be so bad. Yet seeing was believing and if this was just the foyer? Yeah, investing in more security after this would be a wise idea. This whole thing was a building helmache, what made the wreckers believe they would gain in doing this? Well, besides their wrath of course.

~The Autobots are getting desperate, perhaps we should have foresaw they would take a chance to do something so foolish and arrogant..?~ Vos pointed out, slowly folding his arms.

Kaon was not taking this too well either. His plating bristled at the welcoming they had; Messentine was their haven! The place they went to resupply as well as take a few megacycles to unwind after very long trips or between trips! He couldn't see the extent of the damage, but the increasing distress he could sense from his brothers' sparks was indication enough of the damage. The fact those two diodes thought they could get away with this? It made him pissed they hadn’t taken the opportunity to torture them longer. Should have brought them aboard the ship and frag whatever Nickel would have said!

Without further comment the tan mech split off from the others. Their base was large and there was no reason for him to group up with Kaon or Vos. If Kaon said no one was here then no one was here so they could safely cover more ground while apart. While Tess went one way, Vos and Kaon went other directions. Tess had headed towards the West Wing of the base so Vos went for the Center Residence and Kaon went for the East Wing. 

There was also a part of their base that extended towards the mines- lugging large quantities of Nuke up from the caverns then over a long expanse of rugged terrain was neither fun nor easy so they had built an extension that went right near the mouth of the mines. Given the typical rectangular shape of their base, Helex and Tarn followed after Vos a short distance before breaking off to head down a set of embedded stairs. The mines were situated deep underground, so the stairway led them to a sloping tunnel that would then lead to the mouth of the main cave entrance. There they stored their tools and mine carts for hauling the Nuke themselves. 

"Wait," Helex spoke up, taking a moment to step ahead of Tarn. What if there were traps the Wreckers had planted inside? He and Tarn were the oldest members of the DJD, but Helex- he knew he could be replaced. Just like their other fallen brothers. But Tarn? He was the one who held them all together. He was the one who commanded their loyalty. If there were traps laid inside the mines it was best if he bore the brunt of them instead. So he was the one to lead them down first, activating the lights they had installed along the walls- only to stop short when the lights died only a few feet into the mines. Helex sort of just- stared at the wall of rubble in disbelief. While he had expected some damage, he had not thought the main entrance would be completely collapsed in. And the Wreckers had to have used their explosives to accomplish this—

 _No_...If it looked this bad on the outside then the inside was more than likely worse. The Nuke would have chain reacted to the explosions. Everything in there was likely nothing more than dust and rubble! They could excavate an entirely new mine but who knew how far the veins of Nuke spread under Messentine? Tarn’s servos lifted to his helm, disbelief and sorrow leaving him mute and immobile. He could feel his processor throb as he tried to reassure himself that this could be fixed, it _had_ to be fixable for the sake of himself and his group.

But it seemed like the Wreckers knew just how to hit the DJD leader in all his weak points. For it was then they received the first status update from Tess, ::They wrecked the memorabilia room!::

The memorabilia room? Where they had kept everything pertaining to their glorious leader? Tarn had painstakingly collected everything he could. A first edition copy of _Towards Peace_. Megatron’s original fusion gun. Primus, he’d even had Megatron’s original _shell_! The pewter silver frame that he had shed after his injuries on Earth, as he now bore the black and purple frame designed by Shockwave and Soundwave. To know that all of _that_ was now in ruins too? It filled the tank with an unrelenting rage.

Helex approached his leader and laid a gentle servo on Tarn’s shaking shoulder. But this was just the start of the terrible news. 

::Each of our rooms have been vandalized,:: Vos commed, ::notably your collection is missing Helex, your datapads are destroyed Tarn, me and Tess' walls have been completely blown out and Kaon, I'm unsure entirely with your room because it's always a mess, but...It seems they took some of my acids to melt and damage your room::

::Yeah well they fragging released scraplets in our base I think cause there are traces of the vermin in some of the walls and floor:: Kaon growled back. He couldn’t see the damage to confirm this for sure, but Pet kept having to gently nudge him to guide him out of the way of the holes in the floor. He’d paused to kneel after one of the guiding nudges to check and when he stood back up, he’d begun feeling along the walls for similar damage. ::They had a heyday here clearly and it feels fragged up that we didn't draw out their suffering longer for all of this::

Tarn was too pissed and couldn't find his voice to speak and inform them of the status of the mines, he was devastated by all of this. Messentine was sacred to them and it was their home in a way. Sure it was not the same as Cybertron, but it symbolized so much to the Decepticon cause and it offered them sanctuary and supplies. His vents hissed in pain as his rage and anxiety began to peak. Helex was going to need to inform the group for him and try to help him calm down before he went into an episode.

For once, Helex wasn't sure he could offer the support he knew Tarn needed right now- mostly because the usually quiet member was seething with his own fury. He could understand the Wreckers destruction of their home. Just because he understood it, though, did not mean he was happy about it. Destroying the mines was a calculated move that, if he were in the Autobots position, he'd have done the same thing too. He and his brothers were addicted, there was no denying that, and by destroying their main source of addiction they would quickly fall into withdrawal, making them much less efficient in their tasks. And destroying their base of operations was standard procedure. Even the memorabilia room he could understand. No Autobot liked their glorious leader. But-

To intentionally take and destroy their personal things? What reason was there to damage Tarns datafiles? Or _especially_ to take his collection? Heck, most of his brain modules had been from Decepticons; they weren’t even Autobot trophies! And what would the Wreckers want with them, except to intentionally harm him and his brothers? _That_ was what made it personal, and what made him so angry. 

Helex reached out and enclosed Tarn's servos in his secondary ones. Tarn looked to him with optics burning; he knew his leader was pissed, but they had to keep their helms together to get through this. Anger could come later, after they solved their problem first. Revenge was a dish best served cold, after all. So without comment he pinged Tarn with Swindle's comm code, as well as Scrappers. The war was over and the Consctructicons were still busy re-building Cybertron. But even if they could not come themselves, they could send other builders out here to rebuild their base and excavate the mines. And Swindle could provide materials. They just needed to be contacted and persuaded to make their base a priority. Swindle could also possibly assist them in acquiring Nuke until the mines were settled here. The fact they now knew Swindle should never have sold Ratchet to them would surely encourage the mech to give them a good deal as well.

::The mines have been destroyed:: Helex finally sent out, tone hollow and dispassionate. ::A new entrance or mine is needed::

There was a beat, then ::We should have brought those slagheaps aboard! Nickel wouldn’t have needed to know!:: Tess snarled, echoing Kaon’s earlier thoughts.

"We should locate the next nearest target. Or former Autobot outpost," Helex suggested. Finding someone to kill would help take the edge off.

That was when the nastiest bit of news was delivered. ::Okay, disrespecting the dead is just petty—they shattered the memorials to our brothers and sisters:: Kaon raged. Every deceased DJD member was melted down and reshaped into an urn that represented what they looked like in life. Then they were placed upon a pedestal in the memorial room. But when Kaon went to check, he’d nearly tripped on the knocked over remains of one of the pedestals, even despite Pets attempts to lead him. Huge chunks of rubble crunched beneath his pedes. ::The urns of the first Kaon, Vos, Tesarus and Helex are all missing too so they took them for whatever reason. Nice knowing the wreckers are fragging graverobbers!:: 

The pistons in Tarn's throat tightened. Where was the morality in assaulting the remains of his brothers and sisters?! All they had left, then, were the images Tarn had hanging in his room aboard the Peaceful Tyranny. 

It was the final straw.

Tarn straightened, shrugging off Helex’s hold on him. ::There will be retaliation for what crimes have been done, that I promise:: Tarn spoke, his voice eerily calm, ::even if the ones who committed this have died, not all of their friends have. The Wreckers have only ensured everybot they care about will be punished mercilessly::

::We're returning to the Peaceful Tyranny. I'll be arranging repairs for Messentine before setting our course for our next target—Kaon, I want you to tell me which is closest on the list::

::Yes Tarn:: Kaon replied. Now was not the time for jokes or sarcastic remarks. With the Pets pseudo intelligence, Kaon was able to direct it to help him pick up a few of the remaining, undamaged urns to take with them onto the ship. He doubted anyone else would come here, but of all their possessions, these were the most precious. So he did not want to risk leaving them.

Tarn and Helex turned and headed back down the tunnel to re-enter their base. They would need to use their ships communication system to contact Swindle and Scrapper. Their own personal comms. could not reach so far. 

They needed to regroup and vent- the training rooms were going to be getting a lot of action soon. And as Helex said- there was nothing they could do to fix things themselves. They had come, evaluated the situation to know how bad it was, and now it was time to seek their vengeance. Hopefully by the time they were ready to return, the base would be at least partially restored. 

The five of them met up back at the docking station, with Kaon laden with what urns he could carry. Without comment, Tarn approached to assist Kaon with his burden. “…Thank you, brother,” he said softly.

“Yeah, well…we didn’t think anyone would mess with our base before. Now that it’s all fragged up? I didn’t want to take any chances,” Kaon gruffed.

“Yeah. That’s why me and Vos grabbed some of our stuff just in case." Vos had been the one checking out their berthrooms, but Tess had a bigger subspace so he'd joined his brother and collected some of their most valuable possessions. 

He couldn’t fit everything of course, but it was better than nothing. 

“Let’s just go back to the ship. We have a lot to do,” Tarn said. As soon as they were on the ship he broke away from the group and headed right for the bridge. He would set the course and get on call with Scrapper and then Swindle. He needed to know the building materials needed before calling Swindle anyways or he could end up buying too much or too little. And that would be an annoyance for the already irritated DJD. 

Kaon quickly scuttled after their leader. “Tarn, wait!” He called out. While he had been collecting the urns he’d also concentrated his ability to locate the nearest mech on their List. Since Tarn knew of every single Decepticon, each bot that was placed on the List was thoroughly investigated. Kaon knew the spark waves of every bot from their medical files and could hunt their individual energy readings like a long-distance finger print. “The closest bot available is on Eros,” he informed the other. 

“Very good Kaon. Then I’ll set a course for Eros.” The planet was only a few lightyears away. It’d take their ship not more than a week to get their regularly. But surely two days was enough for Kaon and Ratchet’s repairs to have integrated enough to make the jump…

With the information given, Kaon left Tarn alone and led Pet over to the medbay. Not that he went in though; oh no. His objective was the storage room next door- the one that hadn’t been converted for Ratchet’s use. His plan was to get some Nuke, bring it back to his room, and hope it would be enough to take his edge off. 

Tesarus went around to each members berthrooms to drop off their things- a few of Helex's brain modules, some random knicks knacks from Vos and Kaon's rooms since he really didn’t know what they would have wanted, and the remaining memorabilia went to Tarn. Then Tess fled to the training rooms to work out some of his pent up aggression. They were going to need new punching bags since he straight up shredded a few of them. Vos also chose to go to the training room, though he was a bit disappointed when Tess couldn't control himself from shredding some of the punching bags. They already had a lot destroyed -- but he didn't scold him for it as he understood the fury and anger he was feeling. While he had not said anything before obviously he was upset as well. Vos kept to himself as he trained to hone himself for the next unlucky target they would be hunting down.

Helex followed Kaon’s example as well and after fetching some nuke for himself, went to his own quarters to silently fume. Though he did have the courtesy to comm Nickel to inform her they were back. Otherwise the femme would have a conniption if they didn’t inform her they were all right. Helex did not fill her in all the way, but suffice it to say she could tell that _something_ terrible had happened. 

While the DJD were gone, Ratchet had _finally_ been allowed to get a look at his room. Granted it was literally a storage closet with a berth shoved into it, but it was _his_. Nickel decided it was best to warn the medic of the impending danger on the ship. She grabbed him a cube of energon from the medbay before heading over to his room. Without knocking she made her presence known, the door sliding open immediately at her touch. 

Ratchet, completely unaware of what had happened, remained curled up on his berth for the few hours the DJD had been gone. But when he felt the ship give a jerk as it pulled away from port, he knew they were back again. When his door opened he tensed, terrified that he was going to be a punching bag for the DJD members after seeing what happened to their base. He only relaxed marginally when he saw it was Nickel, expression still apprehensive. "...I take it things went badly?" He wondered, sitting up on the tiny berth and taking the offered energon- his systems starved so he was more than eager for a drink.

"Well, you're not going to be leaving this room or seeing any of them for a while," she said blandly while rubbing the back of her neck.

Ratchet tried not to look _too_ excited when Nickel stated he wouldn't be seeing the DJD. That was some of the best news he'd gotten in a while. Well, besides getting his servos replaced. He was still perversely delighted to have forged servos again, though he was still trying pretty hard to not stare at the blue paint. But, yeah—it sucked he'd also be stuck in his room too, but he could put up with that if it meant he'd get some time away from them. "I can't come out to even help you in the medbay?" He wondered, though honestly he didn’t care about that either. Not being in the medbay meant he didn’t have to do anything that would help the DJD in any way. "You think you can get me a couple datafiles, then?" He sighed. "It'll be awfully boring in here on my own," blue optics sweeping around the barren, closet sized room.

“I don’t think you being in the medbay will be a good idea right now. I just don’t want to risk them taking their frustrations out on you. So, yeah. You’re going to have to stay in here for a while,” she sighed. “But, yeah. I’ll get you some things to do. And I’ll come visit when I’m not busy, so you’re not lonely—”

Ratchet had to bite his glossa to keep from retorting to that. When was he _not_ lonely? Nickel wasn’t his friend. Wasn’t an Autobot. She’d never understand. He missed…well, everyone. Constantly. And that wasn’t an ache that would go away like his physical wounds. 

“I’ll also try and get some paint for your servos,” she added, not having stopped talking. She hadn’t missed the way Ratchet kept staring at his servos earlier, before he’d left the medbay to come rest here. 

“…Yeah, all right. Thanks Nickel,” he sighed. What else did she expect him to say? It wasn’t like he felt bad for the DJD. In fact, he was glad their base was apparently trashed. Even if he didn’t know the extent— _any_ inconvenience for them was a plus in Ratchet’s book. It was petty, but it was really all he had.

After ensuring that Ratchet didn’t need any more fuel, the femme awkwardly made her exit to leave the mech alone.


	13. Chapter 13

After the first jump with their warp drive caused Kaon to double up on the floor, purging his tanks, it was concluded that they had no choice but to finish the trip to Eros the old fashioned way. At least they managed one of two jumps, so that the trip would take half the usual time. It still took another four days before the DJD finally reached the planet where their target was located. Luckily for them, they needn’t have worried about their prey trying to run from them as it seemed their ship had broken down on the rocky, rugged world. Which was fine by Tarn so long as the prey didn't get so desperate they chose to commit suicide rather than face their judgement. 

However, their newest 'family member' still needed training and honestly the group had been rather neglectful of the medic the last few days. Besides, Ratchet was surely bored out of his wits being cooped up in that tiny room and could use some sort of outing. So while the DJD were all commed to meet at the teleportation room, Vos was given the task of fetching and bringing the medic along. While his other brothers were getting ready for their hunt, the sleek mech made haste to get the Autobot so they could get down there before the target caught wind of their presence.

The sniper rifle gave a few knocks on the door before commanding it to open. ~Come with me,~ he ordered as he gazed apathetically at the medic. This was the first time he had been forced to interact with the medic in over a week, ever since Ratchet’s betrayal. 

Even though Nickel came and fed him, and brought him datafiles to read, there was only so much reading and sleeping Ratchet could do before getting bored with that as well. He was usually a very physically active mech. Staying still for so long made him jittery. Even if he didn’t want to do anything that helped the DJD, he wanted to do SOMETHING. 

So when there was a knock at his door he immediately sat up, his jitters turning to anxiety and settling down in his tanks. Nickel never bothered knocking. Even if he was sleeping she just left him stuff on the floor near his berth. So when the door opened and Vos was there, Ratchet's armor slicked against his frame. He didn’t verbally respond, but Ratchet leveraged himself from the berth to follow after Vos. His joints were still stiff from his previous injuries, especially since he didn’t have a lot of space in his room to move around, so he had some trouble keeping up with the slim mech because of the slight limp he still sported. But- he didn’t try and run off at least. Despite the obvious pain he was in he didn’t complain and followed obediently after Vos.

Luckily for Ratchet, the sleek mech was not as upset as he was the day they discovered the mess made of their mines and base. Tarn had made the necessary arrangements for everything to be repaired. There was still a chance the mines were completely decimated, but as thanks for returning Grimlock to him, Shockwave was working on an artificial Nuke substitute for them. So things were already looking up for the DJD. So Vos could manage not getting annoyed when the medic was unable to keep up with him. Besides, he was being obedient and not trying to give him any grief either which the sniper rifle was more than pleased with right now. As having to drag the larger mech down the halls would've been a real burden for him.

When they made it to the bridge though and he saw all the DJD members there, Ratchet did pause, his expression wary. "...What's going on?" He dared to ask, gaze darting between the five members. After all, any time all of the DJD members had been gathered together thus far had led to trauma in one way or another for the old mech. 

"We're going on a little trip. That’s all you need to worry about," Tess grunted.

This time around, Tarn was the one to input the coordinates of the teleporter. As the vortex opened he looked to his brothers with a steady gaze; "We're going to try and drag this one out for two rounds," he informed the others. This meant they were to try and keep the victim alive long enough to drag out the torture for twice as long, allowing each of his brothers two turns each, something he didn't do often. However, with that happened at Messentine? Tarn felt this was a good way for them to enjoy themselves a bit. After all, just because their base was going to be repaired didn’t lessen their anger over what the Autobots had done. The loss of their personal affects and destruction of the memorial room still weighed heavily on their minds.   
Besides, they still needed to train Ratchet. Even though the medic had reacted badly on Delphi, only further exposure to such acts would help numb him and, eventually, acclimate him to accept them as normal. 

At the news that they would be drawing out the torture even longer than usual, Kaon perked up immediately. _Finally_ he was going to have some fun! After missing out on the last three torture sessions, he was really itching to enact some violence! With the portal now open Tarn went in first, followed closely behind by Kaon and the others. Only Vos stayed behind, waiting impatiently as Ratchet was now acting as if he were paralyzed. Vos looked at the vortex and back at Ratchet and made a encouraging churr for the Autobot to go through the vortex as well.

For Ratchet would very much like to be going back to his room now, please. He would much rather be bored than go planetside with the DJD again. He remembered quite well what happened last time and based on what Tarn said he had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t a simple supply run. Unfortunately, leaving would not be an option. He watched with apprehension as first Tarn, then Kaon, the Pet, Tess, and Helex went through the swirling vortex until it was only him and Vos left. He stared at the mostly purple bot, rooted to the spot in fear. He didn’t want to go. Both because he knew that down there, there would be nothing but horror and because, well- his processor kept stalling as to why _he_ was needed. If the DJD were doing what he thought they were doing there was no need for him to go, not like back on Delphi when he had to pick out supplies...

But even though it was fear that had rooted him to the spot, it was also fear that forced him to move before Vos could speak or punish him. He was terrified of what they were going to do, but he was more terrified of what they'd do to _him_ if he dawdled any longer, so he hastened to Vos' side, face turned away and optics on the ground- but hey, at least he followed him through the teleporter.

Given their minor delay Kaon had already taken the time to pinpoint their quarry’s location. "They're south and heading our way," he reported.

"Perhaps they're hoping to plea for forgiveness," Tarn scoffed, clearly unimpressed. It was true that some victims approached them in hopes that maybe somehow they could barter them or appease them with deals to spare their life. However, Tarn had never spared any bot on the List; so it was a pointless effort. Unless Megatron pardoned them from their fate, they were destined to be 'cleansed'.

"We'll hold our ground. Vos, be ready to transform if they decide to flee and kneecap them. Tesarus will take the shot," Tarn ordered as he glared eagerly for their prey to dumbly come to them. He would humor them if they thought they could talk their way out, but as with everyone else, it would only serve to ensnare them. 

The more the DJD spoke about their victim, the more apprehensive Ratchet became. Why was he here? To torment him by making him watch another torture session? But why? He'd been behaving! Granted he'd been in his rooms for days so there really wasn’t any way for him to get in trouble. But he didn’t understand why he was being punished for no reason- unless, of course, they were just doing it for added fun. He wouldn’t put that past them.

Or maybe they'd need a medic to keep the bot alive for two rounds. Though if that was the case, they were out of luck- Ratchet didn’t have access to his subspace and even if he did he didn’t have any supplies. 

As the group formed up to try and catch the incredibly stupid mech, Ratchet inched away. There was nowhere for him to go, of course. The bridge was gone so he couldn’t go back to the ship and he wasn’t stupid enough to try and run. He just...didn’t want to be near them when things went down. He didn’t want to have to watch again, and distance made it easier to look away.

Of course, his decision to move away from the others was going to be his downfall, in a way. 

Kaon growled as the prey's movement changed ; it seems they caught on to them and were going to make a gutsy move. "They picked up speed—I think they know we're here and want to try to break past us," he reported though it came too late, considering the target came over the hill at top speed barreling towards them.

The triple changer was an odd one, in that he wasn’t big. He didn’t turn into a tank or jet or anything like that. In fact, his current alt mode was a racing model. With turbos that shot fire out the back. While flashy they also served a purpose- he got some _serious_ air from the hill and practically flew over their helms. 

Vos hissed in annoyance at this last second tactic the prey was trying to pull before transforming. Tess caught Vos as he transformed and snapped off a shot, popping one of the mechs tires so that he landed hard and skidded- right into Ratchet. Of course, the old bot tried to move, but what with the whole limp and everything he wasn’t exactly fast. Ratchet landed on top of the mechs hood and scrabbled for purchase on it while the bot desperately tried to right himself, his tires turning up dirt and trying to fling Ratchet off.

Tarn didn’t need to order them to go after the mech; they’d done this enough times to know. None of the DJD members sported fast alt. modes so it was easier to just run after the mech. Tess kept trying to get another shot off with Vos, but with the bots swerving there was a slim chance the sniper would miss and hit Ratchet instead. 

The old bot cursed, grabbed the back of the bots hood, then leveraged his legs up to kick through the bots front window and slam his pede into the steering wheel. Of course, having what amounted to his chest kicked through had the mech slamming on the breaks instinctively even before Ratchet kicked his wheel. "Get off, get off, get off oh Primus please!" The mechs voice crackled from his radio, then squealed off with a shrill whine when something suddenly grabbed his back tires and lifted him up. 

Helex grunted with the effort and Ratchet tumbled out of the mech, then quickly scrabbled away. His optics were wide and terrified, his vents screaming from the stress of basically having just been run over. Glass stuck out of his legs and he was scraped and oozing energon, but nothing serious. "A for effort, but you really need to stop getting hurt so much," Tess snickered at his dilemma and even helped Ratchet up as he came over. Which confused the medic to no end so that he almost tripped again as he backpedaled away from Tess' touch and the struggling victim.

The mechs tires spun to try and get Helex to let him go and his voice was full of static as to make his pathetic begging incomprehensible. Yep. A total coward, as Tarn said. Helex hefted the mech up then slammed him down with enough force to pop his remaining wheels, then sat on him for good measure so he couldn’t get away. The bot squealed in pain, but was powerless now to get away.

By that point Tarn managed to catch up with the others, and he struggled to keep his venting even. He didn’t want their victim to see him huffing for cool air, to see him as anything but being in top physical condition. Though in reality the tank could seriously use that full frame maintenance check Ratchet had mentioned all that time ago. Still, he made sure to stand tall and proud as he approached his the traitor, optics boring into the mechs crushed frame.

“Well done, Ratchet,” Tarn purred, his voice caressing the bots spark with praise and admiration. “I didn’t think you’d have it in you.” Of course Tarn was aware that Ratchet had more than likely reacted instinctively rather than with malicious intent against their target, but that didn’t matter. The path to the Pit was paved in good intentions, after all.

“W-what? No, I-”Oh gods. Oh _Primus_ no. No no no no no NO! Ratchet- he hadn't _meant_ to help the DJD with their hunt. He had just- reacted with instinct. When you get run over you do what you can to ensure you don't get hurt any more than you already would be. And the best way to stop a careening mech? Get control of their steering wheel. He had been trying to shove his pede through the steering wheel to correct the mechs path, but-

Ratchet keened softly and this time, he wasn’t pinned in place by Kaons restraints or his blown out joint. His buried his face in his servos and shook his helm, disgusted and horrified with what he'd done. He didn’t WANT the DJD's approval, and even though he couldn’t see them he could feel their stares even as he did his damndest to make himself as small as possible.

“Now Kaon,” Tarn continued, as if Ratchet hadn’t reacted at all, “Since you keep missing out on all our fun, why don’ you go first this time?” He offered.

Kaon cackled, delighted to have such a privilege-

"Two rounds Kaon," he reminded calmly before he looked at Ratchet and gave him a subtle nod of approval for his part in today's hunt. With the order to start given, Helex moved off the mechs frame to give Kaon access. In another desperate bid to escape the bot did the dumbest thing he could- he transformed into root mode. Without his tires he couldn’t escape in either of his alt. modes, but maybe he could run--? 

"Of course," the electric chair acknowledged before approaching the victim. Pet slunk beside him, its hackles raised and fangs bared. Kaon’s coils snapped with electric charge, before a bolt of energy crackled through the air and zapped the mech, paralyzing him in his attempt to flee. Kaon nonchalantly approached the downed, spasming mech and rolled him over before sitting on the mechs chassis. He looked down at him like a turbofox with a petrorabbit, "You really are pitiful with all of that static rubbish you’re stammering, of course, considering your record? I guess it isn't the most pitiful and pathetic thing about you , which is really saying something." He was using his digit to tap on the victims right optic a moment as he stared at him with his empty sockets. He might not be able to see the face the other was making, but he could still see the fear in his spark and that was all he needed to be enticed with hunger to see their spark weep and scream for mercy.

Furthermore a lot of bots got unnerved by the fact he had no optics especially since he was able to move and act like he could see without them. The Pet whined beside him, its mandibles clacking together excitedly. It, too, had been left out in the last few hunts. And it was _tired_ of turbofox sparks. The non-clan mechs scent enticed it, made the sparkeater salivate with want.

“Not yet, Pet. You have to _wait_. Be a good boy and then you can eat the mechs spark.”

“N-n-n-o, p-please,” the mech stammered, the first comprehensible thing his short-circuited vocalizer could manage. “Let m-me go! I d-d-didn’t do anything!”

“And that, my friend, is exactly your problem,” Kaon crooned. All the while his digit kept tap-tap-tapping against the mechs optic lens, each one being done with added force until the bot under him was wincing with each click. When he tried to wiggle away, the Pet snarled and snapped its jaws mere inches from the top of his head. A crack appeared in the lens from one particularly hard jab from Kaon’s claw. Suddenly he raised three digits up and jammed them as hard as he could. The mech screamed and thrashed as Kaon broke through his optic lens; Pet snapped its jaws around one flailing arm, preventing it from hitting Kaon off the bot, while the creature stepped on the other arm to pin it to the ground. “Oh, what a good boy. Isn’t he a good boy?” Kaon cooed as he curled his digits inside the bots socket and used his hold to lift the bots helm off the ground- then slam it back down, repeatedly. The sound the mechs sobs and pleas to Primus and for them to stop was music to Kaon’s audios.

Then the red and gold mech began to dig his digits in even deeper, trying to hook into the cords that connected the bots optic. Curling his digits repeatedly he began to scoop the cables out. "sSsssdS-top," the mechs vocals crackled.

Humming to himself, Kaon stood- then kicked the mech straight in the jaw, hoping to dislocate it. Or at the very least, get the mech to stop whining for five seconds. He liked hearing the bots sounds of pain, but he had a seriously annoying voice. It was less than he wanted to do- not nearly enough to sate his pent up rage- but if they wanted to last two rounds it would have to do for now. Nodding to himself, Kaon glanced over his shoulder, then gestured for Helex to take over. 

The mech should consider himself so lucky though. Kaon had taken it easy on him. He was sobbing, the hole where his optic had been oozing energon down his face like grotesque tears. Helex rumbled and stood, but before the mech could try and scramble away, swiftly stomped down on one knee, then the other. He screamed again but with the Pet still pinning his upper body there was no way for him to crawl away now. Helex followed up Kaon’s kick to silence the mechs screams by grasping the mechs glossa and ripping it straight out. That made the bot gurgle and choke on his own energon so of course Helex had to roll him onto his side- didn’t want the bot to choke to death after all. Pet released the bot at Helex’s prompting so he could be turned over, though it remained by the victim in case it was given a chance to attack ot help some other way. Helex then shoved the glossa into the seeping optic socket. It wasn’t nearly as brutal as they could have been, but this was them warming up. Besides, they didn’t have walls to string the bot up like they had their last few victims. "Vos?" He offered his slim brother, holding the bot by the back of the neck to keep him still. 

Vos stepped up to the mech once it was his turn, and quietly used his anatomy knowledge to determine where the likeliest weak points were. Fast as a whip, his claws struck out, digging into the thick, easily accessible cables where the bots thigh met his hip. More energon spurted from the mech, both from his mouth and his thigh as needle-like claws raked through pistons and cables. Having only his servos to work with, it would take some time to completely remove the mechs leg from his body…

Ratchet couldn’t take any more. He knew that doing so would get him into a heap of trouble. But his conscious mind had checked out and his subconscious couldnt handle this. He was plagued with nightmares of Twin Twist and Top Spins deaths plus his own torture. He didnt want to see or hear any more of this. So, without thinking, the medic turned and tried to bolt.

Sadly for Ratchet, Tarn had guessed he might try to make a run for it. To which he easily was able to grab him by the shoulder and pull him to stand right in front of him and close to the suffering victim. "I'm afraid this is the only one on the List to be caught here. So relax..." he teased with a purr as he used his spark gift to try and help ease the medic from some of his fear, "besides, you did a good job for your first true outing."

Ratchet made his own gurgling noise in the back of his throat as he struggled to suppress his gag relax when Tarn caught him and forced him to look at the dying mech. Their optics caught and then the bots one hazy optic drifted to Ratchets shoulders to where his medic crosses were and he shrieked indignantly. Ratchet backpedaled again, but he had nowhere to go except to collide chest-to-back with Tarn. He whimpered and covered his optics again, vehemently shaking his helm. "No! I didn’t do anything!" He denied, not wanting to be a part of this; "Why are you doing this? I've been behaving! Why are you doing this to me?!" He whined, trembling against the mech, vents blown wide as they surged with Ratchet's stress. Tarns gift was helping, but only marginally, and Ratchet wasn’t stupid. He knew better now and was trying to actively resist, even though he had no idea how to fight Tarns power. Even though there _wasn’t_ was a way to resist. 

"Please calm down," he said in a soothing voice "this isn't a punishment, but a lesson. You need to learn what we're trying to teach you, so don't blame yourself, the learning isn't easy. But you'll understand in time." His voice was still trying to relax and convince the medic to trust him. And what lesson Ratchet was supposed to be learning? Tarn didn’t say. He couldn’t give up the game so soon. But, as he said- Ratchet would figure it out, in time. But by then it would hopefully be too late. 

So even though he wanted to, Ratchet could not fight Tarn's influence. He was still afraid, and yet his frame began to relax. His venting evened out and even though a few minute tremors continued to wrack his frame, it wasn't doing an imitation of a leaf any more. It was just- so surreal. To feel so freaked out and yet not have your body react normally. Then again, even his fear began to lessen to more of a wary caution. Which was just as freaky because he knew he ought to be afraid, and yet his spark wasn’t reacting right either.

Vos got about halfway through the mechs thigh before giving up. It was taking longer than he had anticipated and he could see Tesarus getting antsy in his peripheral. He had to give the target some credit though; with how much of a coward he was, he was surprised the other was still conscious! Both due to the pain and energon loss he was enduring. 

Deciding to end his turn, Vos used some of cabling he had already removed to tie the bots servos together. The rest he tossed to Pet to chew on; the sparkeater couldn’t actually eat the parts, but it gnawed on the sparking wires Vos tossed at it, its beady optics brightening happily at the bit of charge it absorbed from them. Not a spark, but a tease for when it’d get one. 

Then Vos called for Tess to take his turn. Tesarus laughed maniacally once Vos gave him the go ahead and eagerly took his place. He didn’t hesitate for a moment. He took the bot from Helex and held him up with his main arms. Then the appendages on his back surged forward; one rammed itself into the mechs splintered chest while the other pierced through his other optic. A fountain of energon leaked from the mechs frame; it would be a wonder that he didn’t bleed out before they got a chance to go round two! Yaking his pincers out, Tess turned the bot around so he was facing Ratchet and Tarn, then pierced the mechs shoulder joints to hold him up like a puppet. "So Tarn, are you going to take a turn?"

"Yes, I am," he answered before looking down at Ratchet, "though I will be offering to share this turn…"  
Tarn was curious if he could influence the Autobot to partake with him with his spark gift. Would the medic be able to resist his spark gift when he used it to caress and urge his spark more directly to join him? Maybe it was a big leap though and he didn't want to stress the old mechs spark out, but it didn't mean the large mech couldn't give it a try another time. For now he would make an offer and see what the medic felt was worse.

Ratchet’s helm snapped up when Tarn spoke, optics wide with shock. Tarn wanted him to _help_ torture this mech? How crazy was he?! Even the other DJD members looked bemused; then again, Ratchet did not realize what an _honor_ it was for another member to share their turn with another. Let alone Tarn! 

“I'm a medic," he blurted, finally finding his voice. Self-defense and acting on instinct was one thing, but he had coding. 'Do No Harm.' Sure, he’d killed in the war. There was no denying that. But killing to preserve himself, his friends, his ideals- it wasn’t _torture_. "I can't-" he looked down at the mech again then quickly away. 

"But if you could, would you?" Tarn asked curiously, tilting his helm slightly before deciding to try and further convince the medic, "listen to me... Coding can be overridden with enough effort. There are plenty of mechs and femmes who had to override coding throughout the war." In fact, he was sure Ratchet was one of them. Most medics did, if they wanted to keep a shred of their sanity in such a conflict. 

"Now I'm going to give you some choices," he said gently, though his grip on the older mech tightened slightly, "you could follow my order and punish this traitor alongside me; or you can refuse to partake with me and continue watching… But if you try to look away or show any form of disrespect— you will have to be punished, as much as I hate it. Do you understand?" Of course if he refused Tarn, that in itself would be an insult to him and thus would merit punishment; his family was to follow his orders otherwise expect they could expect punishment for disobedience. It was lose-lose for Ratchet in which he did not fully understand the stakes.

Ratchet looked about ready to bolt again, but with Tarn keeping a tight grip on him, Ratchet couldn’t. Ratchet glanced back at the slowly dying mech and slowly shook his helm. He wasn’t going to be a part of this any more than he inadvertently had been. He wasn’t going to hurt the other bot.

Tarn made a loud, disappointed vent to make it clear he was not thrilled with Ratchet's choice. Kaon had to fight hard to not get pissed at the medic. He could see the disappointment in Tarn and if there was one thing the red mech hated? It was his family being hurt or saddened, especially if it was the DJD leader. Having Tarn or any brother share their turn for an equal share of torturing a victim was a rare honor. And Tarn was not known to share his turn unless he was _really_ pleased with something one of the members did. It was the highest praise and Ratchet just flat-out rejected it!

However, the electric chair snapped out of his seething anger when Vos lightly rubbed his shoulder,  
~At ease Kaon, if you get riled up now you're only going to end up killing the traitor when your turn comes again, and disappoint your brothers,~ the scientist pointed out softly to try and appeal to his younger brothers reasoning. 

Thankfully it worked, "I know that..." Kaon gave before looking away with an expression of annoyance as he folded his arms.

"Think of it like trying to train Sparkeater. It makes it easier," Tess told his brother, giving Kaon a solid 'whump' on the back. Difference being that Kaon actually liked Pet. Sure, he and Ratchet had come to a mutual understanding in the medbay when he’d recharged with the other. Didn’t mean he’d come to _like_ the Autobot though. 

Helex used his secondary servos to grasp Ratchet's arms and yank them behind the medic's back, drawing a soft groan from of discomfort from the older bot. Couldn't have Ratchet covering his face after all. Then his primary servos cupped his helm and forced Ratchet to look forward. His big servos covered a good part of his face so that when he curled his digits inward, the tips tapped Ratchet's optics- a warning. Should he offline his optics, Helex would ensure he regretted it. Ratchet whimpered softly. Only then did Tarn take his turn.

First Tarn shooed the Pet back towards Kaon. Then the DJD leader forced the victim back onto his pedes by his shoulder. But he did not take the full of the triple changer's weight so that he would have to try and use his busted legs to semi support himself as he began to move him away from Helex and Ratchet. After all, he didn't want them to get hit with what he was about to do. When Tarn got a safe distance away he switched his hold on the traitor so that he had him by the servo forced the mech to his knees. Then he moved swiftly to yank and twist the other's arm out of alignment, though he made sure not to rip the arm off. Mech was bleeding out enough as it was. The moment the triple changer tried to silently scream, Tarn pulled him up by the back of his neck and slammed his other servo into his lower back. The sound of the mechs back snapping was audible. Breaking the lower part of the bipedalism cord would paralyze his pelvis, down. Tarn’s grip tightened on the victim's neck to cut off his already struggling vents, then released. Tightened, then released. Until he felt the mechs frame begin to overheat from lack of cooling air flow. 

Tarns turn actually wasn’t too bad to watch. Ratchet still felt horrible for the mech, but having an arm get dislocated wasn’t the worst thing he'd seen. And his broken back? Well, it wasn’t like it was a visible injury that could disturb him. The very coding he'd used as an excuse to not participate, Ratchet fell back on—much as he did during Twin Twist and Topspins torture. Medical coding didn’t make him unfeeling, but it allowed him disassociate enough that he could get through this session without losing his mind. 

When Tarn finished with his turn, he once again passed the torch to Kaon, “Brother? You may go again, now.”

Glad for the distraction from his previous thoughts, Kaon hopped over to Tarn. Except, as he got closer, he frowned- “I don’t think this mech will make it through a full second round,” he says. He could sense the bots spark flickering and fading. Humming softly to himself he glanced up at Tarn, then over to the others, and inclined his helm towards them. "Should we go medieval and draw and quarter him? Least that way we can all get some fun out of him." Each of them could get a limb- though that would mean one bot would have to sit out…

~Well, it is your turn so it is up to you,~ Vos pointed out though he did start to approach to aid his brother should that be his final decision.

"Do you think he'll pass out choking on his energon before we quarter him?" Tess asked eagerly.

Helex and Tarn shared a look with one another. Helex was busy holding onto Ratchet, ensuring the Autobot could not look away or miss out on the torture in any way. Besides, Helex knew Tarn well enough to know that out of any of them, their leader deserved the honor of helping to finish off the mech. Even though the opposite was true- at the moment, Tarn was too disappointed to feel the rush that killing usually gave him. Without any one to talk to about his doubts in the Cause- things he would _never_ admit to anyway- he had no way to identify his depression for what it was. But when Helex nodded his helm at him, what could Tarn do besides accept?

Each member grabbed a limb- Tess and Tarn had a leg, while the smaller members grabbed his arms. The limb that Vos had started hacking away at would no doubt rip off first so Tarn grabbed that one. The mech tried to scream, but with his glossa ripped out all he did was spit up frothy looking energon. 

Ratchet watched, numb, as energon began to leak from the bots seams where the DJD members were starting to manage to pull him apart. His shoulders began to tear from their sockets and his broken spine began to stretch out and his back plating split apart to drip energon onto the ground. The sounds of plating squealing apart reached the medic, but Ratchet barely reacted. Then, with one final tug, Vos and Kaon came away with the mechs arms. Energon flew everywhere, some of which hit Ratchet in the face. _That_ garnered a reaction and he flinched, but Helex prevented him from jerking away and when the older bots optics flickered off, he pressed against them with his blunted digits.   
Tess and Tarn tore his legs all the way off as well, letting the torso flop to the ground. "So, Helex, you want this bots brain module?" Tess offered.

Helex huffed and finally released Ratchet to meander over to the mech. With nothing to support him Ratchet collapsed to his knees and finally sobbed to himself. He still didn’t understand _why_ he was being made to watch these…sessions. What was the lesson he was supposed to learn?! If they just told him what they wanted he’d do it, just to stop this! Of course, Tarn did ask him to do what was wanted, and he’d said no, so…

Helex stomped down on the bots helm, destroying it. He only collected brain modules from worthy victims. Ones that put up a fight or impressed him in some way. He'd have been offended if it weren’t for the fact that he knew Tess was trying to make him feel better about his missing collection. He was definitely dead now, which was a shame since Tarn hardly got a chance to do anything. "We can go find somebot else now. He wasn’t any fun at all..."

The only useful thing they’d get out of the mech was his T-Cog and spark chamber. Even if the rest of them were disappointed, at least the Pet could get a treat. Using his many arms, Helex ripped open the bots broken chest- allowing the spearkeater to eagerly snap up the spark casing within its jaws and swallow it whole, the faint blue-glow light of the barely living spark showing through its chest. Tarn much more gingerly extracted the T-Cog from the bots side.

~At least he frothed, I do enjoy when they endure so much stress their energon foams, but that was still a very pitiful and disappointing target~ Vos said with a dry hiss.

"I don't even feel like 'disappointing' covers how this one was, I'm slagged off that this piece of slag was what we got after what we dealt with," Kaon tched before looking to the sky, a part of him hoping by some miracle another target was on the planet -- but there was nothing.

"I'm almost tempted to storm the Lost Light," Tarn whispered, almost to himself. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for it himself, but with how upset his brothers were? He could endure another session right now if need be. But he knew they couldn't, not yet at least. Brainstorm said that he was close to something _really_ good for the Decepticons. And if he just flat out stormed the Lost Light and killed the whole crew it would screw up whatever the flier had promised for the cause. But so _help_ the scientist if what he had for them was not good enough. For now, they needed to get back on the ship and figure out something better to go after.

When the Lost Light was brought up though, Ratchet's helm snapped up, optics wide with fright. No, they couldn't! Ratchet made a soft noise in the back of his throat and with that, his protocols died down and his servos shot up to frantically wipe the other mechs energon from his face. Kaon leered at the mech; like the medic had a choice if they slaughtered all his stupid friends or not! The idea was pleasing to the red mech as he did have a lot of aggression and stress pent up, but he knew that Tarn would unlikely really storm the Autobot ship.

Helex hummed to himself and soon a swirling vortex opened up behind Ratchet- the smelter having summoned it to take them back to the Peaceful Tyranny. They were done here. He went over and gently coaxed the medic into the vortex first, knowing what was in store for him. Ratchet had obeyed and had not looked away during the torture, so he would not be physically abused. But he /had/ chosen the 'weaker' option of not participating, which disappointed Tarn on top of everything. So he'd still be punished, not that Ratchet knew that.

The seven of them appeared back inside the teleporter room. Once all of them were present and accounted for, Helex deactivated the device, dismissing the swirling green vortex. Once they were back inside the teleportation chamber, Tarn sent out a comm to all his brothers at once, ::I want Iacon put into the isolation cell for the time being, no contact from anyone until I give the order otherwise. Then he sent a silent command to Helex. 

“Ratchet, come here,” he crooned. The older mech immediately stiffened, optics going wide as he stared fearfully towards Tarn. 

“…Why?” he asked cautiously, already taking an instinctive step back. 

Tarn’s optic ridges furrowed behind his mask, but he kept his tone calm and collected. “Are you questioning me yet again, Ratchet?” 

The medic flinched, his pale gaze sweeping over the other assembled DJD members. None of them moved or said anything. Though Vos watched with barely concealed hatred as the Autobot further proved to be such a disappointment. A shiver of instinctive fear and dread quailed his spark. “I-I…no, Tarn. I just-” this was feeling too much like when they had ganged up on him and circled him during his torture. He suddenly turned to try and run, but the swift movement twisted his ankle and he cried out as he fell to the floor. 

“You disappoint me Ratchet,” Tarn gave softly, while Helex approached the downed medic to pick him up. 

"I did what you wanted. I did what was wanted, what are you doing?!" Ratchet babbled, kicking and arching against Helex's strong arms as the other bent and grabbed him. Helex grunted, but otherwise shook off Ratchet’s feeble attempts to get away. 

The isolation room was down a few floors. Not quite in the dungeon area, but away from the places Nickel would ever go. It was actually more like a sarcophagus that Helex strapped Ratchet into. There was an IV waiting so that they wouldn't have to open the box- the IV line trailed out a tiny slat at the top so they could refill the IV bag and keep Ratchet in the dark. As he was strapped in, Ratchet broke down in sobs; "Just tell me what I did!" He’d struggled the entire way down, but as with everything else in his life since the end of the war, it had been a futile endeavor. Even kicking Helex in the tank did little more than earn him a growl and cuff upside the helm.

There was a long pause while Helex strapped the defeated mech in and stuck him with the IV, but finally he mustered up the strength to speak. "You chose wrong. If you looked away, you'd be beaten now. But you still disobeyed Tarn. You were meant to kill that mech." And that was all Helex gave before slamming the coffin closed, leaving Ratchet in absolute pitch blackness. He couldn’t move- his arms, legs, and even his chest and neck were all strapped in. There were cushions that curled about his helm, preventing him from even looking side to side. Not that he could even see anything anyway. The only light was from his optics. There were slats in the sides so he wouldn't overheat, but the room the coffin was placed in was left in total darkness as well.


	14. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn’t really relevant to the story, but it does finally show the DJD interacting together as a family. All getting high together, yay! Sorry you'll have to wait until next update for your regularly scheduled torment

The other DJD members watched as the medic was carried away, before Tesarus grunted; "Did Swindle send any updates about the Nuke?" They hadn’t had a good hit in a several days and even though there was still some on the Peaceful Tyranny, their supply was getting low. Even so, Tesarus was itching for a hit after this aft day. It would certainly help take the edge off at least. If Kaon wanted to 'face he could join Tess for a hit as well. And when Tesarus brought it up, Vos had to silently agree. They all deserved _some_ sort of pleasure after all this slag.

“He did contact me late yesterday, actually, with a bit of news," Tarn informed them, "it seems with the war over, there isn't as high a demand for Nuke so he does have a 'fair' amount in stock. Whatever that means. He will be bringing it to us within another day or two, depending how far his quantum drives can jump.” 

“So…does that mean we can indulge now?” Kaon asked hopefully, having picked up on Tess’ intent.

There wasn’t even a moments hesitation before Tarn answered, “You know what? Yes. After all that’s happened…” He sighed and lifted a servo to his mask.

“I'll get the nuke. Ya'll can go to the canteen and start relaxing," Tess drawled, the mech clasping Tarn on the shoulder briefly before doing so.

Even though Kaon could sense how upset Tarn was, for once- the rest of the DJD members could relate. So the optic-less mech whistled for Pet to follow him before darting off down the hall. Having memorized the ships layout he scampered ahead to the canteen; and should he make a mistake in where he was going, he informed the Pet of his intentions so the beast could lead him if necessary. 

Whereas Vos chirred as he clambered up Tarn’s back and treads to curl about his shoulder. ~Its been far too long since you’ve indulged with us, brother.~

“I know. But there’s always time to change things,” Tarn absently shifted the servo from his mask to lightly pet the top of Vos’ helm, as he began to follow Kaon’s tracks, albeit more sedately. Had anyone else touched him in such a manner, Vos would have flipped, but from his beloved leader he recognized it as the gesture of affection that it was. On the way there the sniper rifle also made sure to comm Helex and inform him of the groups decision. 

When they finally caught up with Kaon, the little menace had already somehow managed to turn the couch around so it was facing the entrance rather than the wall and holoviewer. He was vibrating eagerly on the back of it while Pet was laying on the floor. Tesarus and Helex always shared the couch cushions on the rare occasion they did this as they were the two widest members of the group. Tarn pulled up one of the chairs from the tables and Vos scampered down to take a seat at the bar. 

They had to wait for Tesarus at the very least to start, but thankfully it didn’t take the other very long. The big mech was grinning when the doors to the canteen slid open and he walked in, five injectors clutched between his digits. “Who wants it first?”

Kaon nearly leapt off the back of the coach only for Tarn to interrupt, “Perhaps we should wait for Helex.”

“That slow lug? Besides, we don’t have to inject yet. I ain’t gonna hold onto these the whole time,” Tess reasoned, holding up an injector for Kaon to take. The red and gold mech glanced over to where Tarn was seated, but then snatched it up and scampered back over to his spot on the couch. Tarn frowned behind his mask, but when Tesarus approached him he did not reject the injector held out to him- unbeknownst to him that Tess had taken the liberty of giving him a higher dose than usual. As both a long term addict and tank, Tesarus knew Tarn would need it in order to feel anything even though their leader would no doubt be upset he had dipped into more of their stash just for him.

Bah. Aft head didn’t know how to take care of himself. That’s what he had brothers for though.

Just as he had finished handing them out and took his place on the couch, the canteen opened up one last time.

"He's sealed with the IV," Helex said and joined with Tess and Kaon on the couch.

"Good, maybe silence will speak to him better than words," Tarn responded, “Now…lets forget about our problems for a while.” While it was usually used in explosives, the Nuke on their ship was already refined for use in this way so they didn’t have to do anything extra to it at least. He held up his injector as if toasting it, before using it. Each bot had their own preferences:

Tess injected at a spot just under one of his arms while Helex injected it into his leg. It really didn’t matter so long as they hit in a large enough energon line. Tesarus groaned from the first hit through his lines and Helex sighed and offlined his optics, leaning further back into the couch. Vos injected into his wrist as he usually did, a soft sigh escaping him as he felt a tingly warmth began to flood his systems, a feeling that never got old. Kaon was a little more random than the others, though tonight he chose an inner thigh. Whereas Tarn always chose his neck. 

The tank did not immediately notice that he was given a larger dose than usual, but simply relaxed into the chair as he waited for the first tingles of warmth to spread through him. Nuke didn’t do much for him in terms of getting high, though it did mess with his emotional centers, making him more prone to outbursts. Usually ones of rage, but not always.

Given how potent it was, even with their building tolerance to it, the Nuke’s effects were almost instantaneous. 

Vos was already crawling around on the bar counter and peering down to look at the contents they had behind the bar. Usually dexterous digits wiggled uselessly as he even tried to grab a few bottles. He looked like a curious cybercat trying to swat at something behind the counter. He even began to chitter softly to himself, which sounded like a soft, droning purr. 

Helex grabbed up the remote to the holoviewer and twisted around to turn it on, but lowered the volume so that it was little more than background noise for them. Tesarus and he wouldn’t be able to watch, what with the couch now turned around but it would be nice for the others. The drugs and the show were a good way for them to just relax. They didn’t need to speak in order to bond with one another. Just being together and being the closest thing to 'happy' as they could get was good enough.

Helex was about the only bot they knew where Nuke _relaxed_ him, as it was without a doubt a stimulant. Nickel hypothesized it was because of his frametype and thus Helex burned off chemicals differently than they did. Not that the reasoning mattered; while the rest of his family began to feel keyed up and excitable, Helex stretched his legs out in front of him and lifted his main arms up over his helm and behind the couch- nearly knocking Kaon off the back. 

Of course the little hellion took that as a sign to leap down from the back of the couch and into Tess’ lap. With a purr, Kaon began to rub himself against the tan mech, his hips shimmying against the others lap. Of course, most of their family would expect this by now. They didn’t get high together often, but when they did, it tended to follow a pattern, more or less. Instead of pounding on a punching bag, well, Tess would be pounding something else that night. 

The living grinder smirked toothily. At first he was okay with just cuddles. He wrapped his arms around Kaon and pulled the other close, then tilted his helm to watch the holoviewer upside down over the back of the couch. But, Tesarus knew his brother all too well and as he watched the holoviewer, he allowed his servos to start to wander. Almost careless, one servo began to fondle Kaon's fusion coils while the other cupped Kaon's aft and gave it a hard squeeze. The large red X glowed just as bright as his optics when he turned to finally look at his brother and gave Kaon a lecherous grin. "Comfortable Kaon?" he teased, knowing that one of the others would soon likely shoo them away before they became indecent. Most likely Vos since he'd been the most offended the last time he and Kaon had exposed themselves.

Tarn was drawn in by the holoviewer as the colors on the screen were more robust and dynamic compared to usual. In fact, he got the sense he was falling for a moment and it made his optics brighten as his digits traced uneasily on the arm of the chair. The sound of Tess’ voice snapped him out of it though and he hastily glanced over to the couch instead. The mix of red, purple, gold, and tan was almost as interesting and pretty as the holoviewer…

The red mech was always going after some bot when he was high to try and get a rise out of the others- if he managed to actually get laid it was a bonus. Kaon smiled and nuzzled his helm into Tesarus' neck when he was pulled closer, his spark fluttering in delight that he was getting a response. The touch to his fusion coils made him growl softly and his generator began to spit licks of static against those questing digits. "Not as comfortable as I _could_ be~" he murmured, the digits of one servo teasingly traced the rim of his grinder while the other delicately stroked over Tesarus’ modesty plating. 

_That_ was when Vos finally noticed what was happening. The scientist slowly rolled over then off of the counter and hissed in warning at his two brothers. ~That’s enough. If you’re going to start moaning and groping, you can go to one of your rooms.~ By Unicron this was supposed to be a family get-together and not even five minutes in Kaon’s horny self had to go and ruin it. 

"Mmm, I don't want to," Kaon hummed, pretending to think about it for a moment. "Vos why don't you join us and relax? Have some fun," his servo now rubbing more aggressively against Tess’ plating

~My answer will always be _no_ , now go to one of your rooms,~ he spat, his hackles starting to rise.

"How about you join us? And I'll promise never do this out here again," the red mech nettled before readjusting himself to straddle Tesarus so their groins were touching. Tesarus groaned, his servos moving to grip the smaller mechs hips. "Just one night Vos—"

“He already said no,” Tarn finally interceded. “This is meant to be fun and relaxing. Stop trying to pressure him and press his boundaries,” he growled. Tarn tightened his digits around the arms of his chair; he could feel his energon pumping as the first hints of a fight excited him. This was his family though. It wasn’t unheard of for Tarn to lash out at them while high, but he was trying to exercise some restraint. 

Kaon immediately wilted. Though Tesarus just scoffed as he stood, grabbing Kaon by the scruff bar. "Fine, fine. We're going already! Jeez." Shifting his hold on the other he tossed Kaon over his shoulder so he could stroke the others aft and valve panel all the way back to his room. 

The Pet scented the arousal on its master and remained, knowing full well it would not be welcomed in Tesarus’ room at the moment. 

With Tess off the couch, Helex moved to put his pedes up onto it to properly lay down, crossing all four arms behind his helm.

Vos hated being a spoil sport, but seriously…every time! And they all knew how he felt about interface. Nuke already made him jittery and energized as it was. He didn’t need the added anxiety of worrying about bearing witness to such a painful act for him. Being made a drone, he never had any say about what was done to him or how he was used. And when his original commissioner no longer saw the value of keeping a defective gun- couldn’t even talk properly- he’d been sold to a, a-- 

Seeing Vos begin to shake, Tarn stood from his chair to gently scoop the other up. Without a word he gently deposited Vos on top of Helex’s warm chassis. The living smelter was always so warm and comforting. Plus, of all the DJD members, Tarn and Helex were reliable cuddlers. They might not enjoy it as much as their more openly affectionate compatriots, but Vos would never have to worry about the cuddling turning to more with them. 

With a soft sigh, Helex lifted his helm so Tarn could sit, the DJD leader allowing the other to rest his helm in his lap. Even though Vos still felt jittery and wanted to go rummage some more to burn off his energy, he forced himself still for the comforting snuggles. The sparkeater yipped, and Vos was glad to reach down to pet the creature between the ears. It gave him something to do, after all. 

There the four would remain, the holoviewer softly glowing behind them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where we start to see some of the OOC and mind-breakage from the warnings, with the OOC behavior due to the latter.

It was two full months before Tarn decided to release Ratchet. 

Not much happened during the time Ratchet was left down in the isolation room. The family got their first shipment of Nuke from Swindle and the plans for their base were finalized. They really wanted the mines taken care of first and foremost; repairs to the base could come second. After all if need be they could remain on the Peaceful Tyranny, but they really needed their steady supply of Nuke back first. Every couple of days one of them would go down to change the bag that fed Ratchet's IV so he wouldn't starve, not that Ratchet was ever aware anyone was there given the thick walls of the coffin. There were the slats in the sides for him to get fresh air, but whoever went down was to make sure they were quiet- or if they weren’t, to not react to the medics hoarse screams.

And, as always, they were seeking their next targets. But otherwise, it was one of those between times where they went day by day doing their own things.

The same couldn’t be said for the medic.

Optics on or off, it didn’t matter. The first day, it wasn’t so bad. He spent most of it being angry and awake. But, by the second day, Ratchet was so exhausted by it all that he fell into recharge. And immediately suffered nightmares from it. Except, when he woke screaming and fearful- he couldn't tell that he was awake at first because of the blackness and the nightmare kept playing across his mind even with his optics open. It left him so shaken and disturbed that he tried to think of something, anything else. Except he couldn’t move. Not an inch. And with nothing but the blackness around there was nothing at all to distract him. His mind kept playing things over and over: his torture. Twin Twist and Topspin. The mech he had helped capture. Grimlock. Even his time back in Swindle’s complex. There was no way to escape these memories.

He tried thinking about his friends and those who had escaped on the Lost Light. Wheeljack. Hot Rod. Blaster. Who else…? It was so hard to remember any more. Yet the darkness kept encroaching on him. 

Optics on, optics off.   
It was just as dark either way and so the nightmares kept winning out; when you couldn’t tell whether you were asleep or awake any more it became difficult to control ones thoughts. Sometimes they mixed together. Sometimes memories of his torture flowed into the twins torture. Sometimes he imagined what would happen to the Lost Light when they were captured.

He screamed and screamed until his vocalizer was hoarse, then sobbed until it clicked feebly. Ghosts kept touching him. Reaching inside him, inside his spark, making him writhe within his bonds and beg inside his helm for mercy. He hadn't been in here long. Or had he? He didn't know. It felt like nothing and forever all at once. He wanted it to end and that, too, caused pain as the chip in his helm throbbed in warning.

And then there was light, blinding in its intensity. Even if the light actually wasn't very bright, to him it was and his optics flickered offline as he flinched away. His arm twitched in a failed attempt to lift it to shield his face. He felt servos touching him, a prick as the IV was pulled out, but he barely reacted. It was just more ghosts. More hallucinations. Different ones from what he was used to, but soon that prick would turn to blossoming pain and he'd be swallowed up by the darkness again. He just knew it. Except...  
Except he realized that he hadn’t actually offlined his optics and that what he was staring at was the dark wall of his coffin. He knew it was the wall of the coffin because he could finally see his starkly white arm pressed again it.

~What did you reflect on in here?~

Ratchet jumped and nearly whacked his helm against the top of the box when Vos finally spoke up. Tarn had sent the sniper since, as with most decisions concerning Ratchet, it was felt the smaller mech was best suited in dealing with his purchase. The medic’s helm whipped around to stare at the mech. Ratchet just stared and stared and stared, then oh so slowly lifted his servo- A small noise escaped him when there was no resistance to the movement, and when his servo touched Vos' face, the older mech suddenly broke down into tears and launched himself at the mech.

Not to attack though. Ratchet sobbed and sobbed as he held onto Vos like a vice, wrapping the mech in his arms and shaking so badly his dingy white armor rattled against his frame. He was real! Another real, living Cybertronian! Not a vision that would soon dissolve into screams of pain and gore. Either his processor didn’t notice or care who he was latching onto.

All of it happened so fast, Vos stiffened and hissed, claws poised at the back of Ratchet’s neck. It took his processor a moment to realize he hadn’t been attacked and that the medic was actually holding onto him as if he were some sort of lifeline. 

Hm. Well. It certainly wasn’t the response he had been expecting. It wasn’t clear whether Ratchet actually learned anything while in the sarcophagus or if this was a temporary thing, but Vos wasn’t going to squander an opportunity when presented with one. Once it was clear Ratchet was just seeking comfort and not trying to do anything to harm him, Vos relaxed and slowly embraced the old mech to rub his back soothingly.

~It's okay, Ratchet, I am here for you,~ he murmured. ~Let’s leave this room and go to the main deck,~ he said as he let go of the old mech, only to grasp the others servo in his own and give it a little tug. 

Vos speaking up finally had something click inside his helm and Ratchet jerkily pulled away from the other, blue optics dim but wide as he stared into Vos’ face. Then he let go of the slim mech and practically flung himself back- Ratchet would have screamed if his vocalizer wasn't so raw. No, NO! Vos was a mech from his nightmares, and if Ratchet had anything in his tanks to purge he would have done so, a wave of nausea forcing him to curl over on his knees.

"No, please- please- no more. No more. I can't," he coughed. He didn't know what else the DJD had planned for him, but he felt weak and sick and chip be damned he was on the cusp of throwing himself out the nearest airlock! It didn't matter that Vos had nothing bad planned for him. Just seeing the deranged mech made Ratchet feel awful and he didn't want to go to the bridge. He didn't want to see the others. And yet, at the same time- What if Vos tossed him back inside the sarcophagus? Left him alone, in the dark, with his thoughts again?

~Oh, Ratchet…~ What was it Tarn had said to him before? Ah, yes, ~We told you we did not want to hurt you.~

~And we didn’t, did we?~ Vos slowly approached the downed medic, like a bot would a wounded animal. ~We didn’t hurt you. Just put you in time out. Don’t you see how lucky you are?~ 

Ratchet flinched and nearly jerked away again when he felt the others small servo on his shoulder. But his thoughts persisted. He was placed in isolation because he had disappointed Tarn. Because he failed to obey and please the other. Would they leave him in here longer if he continued to behave the way he was? 

A whimper slipped past his lips as Vos digit’s began to gently rub his plating once more, and a few tears slid down puffy, gaunt cheeks. 

~…All right. Not the bridge then.~ Clearly the Autobot wasn’t ready to see the others quite yet. ~How about we go back to my quarters? Get you something to eat. Wash up~ he offered, similar to the first time he had taken Ratchet to his room.

There was a moments pause, but finally the older mech nodded. Vos released him and gave the Autobot some space. He wasn’t a medic, but he did realize that two months without movement would mean the other was likely stiff. So he gave Ratchet the time and space he’d need to gather his wits and stand on his own. 

Even though Vos had been the only one _personally_ hurt by Ratchet’s earlier betrayal, given so much time and distance, Vos had managed to put it behind him. He was smart enough now to not so quickly trust the Autobot, but he no longer hated him at least. His patience also stemmed from the fact that Tarn had long since informed them of the purpose of the isolation room, and Ratchet was reacting close to what Tarn had guessed and hoped for. Initially he’d be fearful yet dependent on them; deprived of any other interaction his frame and mind would be attention starved. It was their goal to foster that dependency. And unlike Ratchet, Vos had no intentions to disappoint. So if it meant hiding his lingering distaste for the Autobot, so be it.

Once Ratchet was standing, Vos gently took one of the medic’s servos and pointedly ignored the way the other swiped at his optics to dry them. 

The walk to his lab/habsuite was slow and quiet. Vos could _hear_ the older bots joints squealing and grinding as they walked, so even though Ratchet was bigger than him, he didn’t comment when the other took shorter strides and thus slowed their pace. 

His lab was much the same as the last time Ratchet saw it, though the ‘torture table’ as he’d come to call it in his mind looked a lot cleaner. It didn’t have any visibly caked on energon at least. Rather than leading him to the back corner where the washracks were, however, Vos began to direct him towards the examination berth. 

“Vos…?” He asked hesitantly, his digits tensing in the others hold.

~Relax Ratchet. Your joints sound terrible; I was going to massage them first is all~ he explained. ~Get comfortable. I’ll be back in a second.~ Vos left Ratchet alone in his lab while the scientist scurried off to the washracks.

Even though Ratchet knew that laying down would make it easier for Vos to massage him, seeing the flat table and its straps made his tank drop down to his pedes and a stab of panic and fear went through him. He knew- or at least, he hoped- that Vos wasn’t going to dissect him. But the table was far too reminiscent of the coffin he'd been strapped to for so long and even thinking about laying on it made him feel dizzy and faint. So Ratchet clambered onto it, but sat on the edge with his legs dangling over the side.

When Vos returned with a jar of joint oil, he cocked his helm when he saw that Ratchet was still sitting up. He did not, however, comment on it. He had told the other to get comfortable so if sitting was more comfortable for him, so be it. After all, it wasn’t like massaging him in such a position would be impossible. It just meant he’d have to adjust his tactics.

Tucking the jar under his arm, Vos altered course to grab a low stool before approaching the medic. He placed the stool at Ratchet’s pedes, then sat upon it. ~Up, up, Ratchet~ he said and patted the spot between his thighs, indicating he wished for the other to rest a pede on the stool. There was still hesitation on the medic’s part, like a turbopup that had been kicked too many times to trust the servo that now offered pets. But, unlike a pup, he had no place to run and hide and compliance was all he could offer. 

Once his pede was lifted up, Vos poured some of the oil into his servos and rubbed them together to generate a modicum of warmth. This time when he touched the medic, the older mech gasped and tensed- not from fear, but pleasure. 

Vos was _good_ at this. Ratchet’s old, aching joints throbbed almost painfully from the attention. Each press of the others digits ached, yet once they moved onto another part of his ankle, the ache turned into a pleasant easing of tension.

"When-" He winced; "When did you l-learn to do this?"

Vos cocked his helm to look up at the other. He didn’t stop the massage though while he answered, ~As I’ve told you before, I was once disposable. When I was no longer wanted…~ he shrugged, ~I was a pleasurebot, Ratchet. I learned _many_ things that way.~ Despite the nonchalant way he tried to play it off, even a blind mech could read the bitterness in Vos’ tone and frame language. 

Even though Ratchet had assumed something similar when Vos first told him of his past, the medic still wasn’t sure how to react to that. Had it been anyone else, in any other situation, he could have empathized. His life in Swindle’s compound seemed like a thousand years in the past; a dream compared to this hellhole. And yet, for all that they had hurt him, Ratchet had been surprised none of the DJD had tried to force themselves on him. Now, perhaps, he understood why. Yet, Vos was a monster. The DJD were all monsters. Did Vos seriously expect him to open up to the other, or to try and offer comfort? 

Thankfully it didn’t seem as if Vos expected a response or didn’t care about the lack of one. When Ratchet failed to separate his tangled emotions enough to say anything, Vos just huffed and went back to the massage in silence. First one pede, then the other. Then he did the back of Ratchet’s knees. 

Ratchet’s engine began to purr softly at the gentle, yet professional touches. He ended up leaning back on his palms on the berth. When Vos finished with his knees the lithe mech crawled up onto the berth behind him. White digits settled against his waist, then began to dig into the seams and cabling there. Ratchet almost wanted to sob from how good it felt; it was the first pleasant he’d felt in so, _so_ long. ‘ _This is real_ ,’ he thought to himself deliriously. In the sarcophagus he’d suffered from vivid hallucinations: the ghost sensations of the DJD had sent physical as well as mental agony through him. Yet here Vos was. The mech who’d ripped his digits off and fed them to him was now treating him to the best massage of his life. He almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it was. 

Finally he did manage to speak up again, “When we’re done here…what am I supposed to do?” A question he had asked more than once. He’d been purchased to be their medic, yet they hadn’t really needed him. The one time they did, he hadn’t been able to complete Kaon’s repairs on his own. He’d also been purchased for Kaon to recharge with, but except for the time the both of them had been recovering in medbay, he had not been able to fulfill that role either. Even though Ratchet still didn’t know how long he had been in the isolation room, he felt it was a rather long time. If they had not needed him in all that time, what was he needed for now? He was starting to feel rather superfluous. 

Again, Vos did not pause in his massage when he answered, ~Supposed to be doing? I guess the general answer would be getting to know the crew. A lot of pedes have been stepped on and the more you know, the less pedes will be trampled on by mistake in the future. So hopefully you'll never have to worry about that room you were in again.~

"Is that why I got put in the room?" He asked, going back to being quiet again. Just thinking about that pithole made him minutely tremble and he moved his arms over his chest so that it wasn’t so obvious. Not that he could hide it from the sniper rifle. Even if Vos wasn’t touching him, he was perceptive enough to have noticed it. But Vos played coy, acting as if he didn't notice and either way what was he going to do with said information? Exploit him for it? That would be petty and a waste of his time, besides, they wanted Ratchet to trust them, not hate them further.

"Helex tried to explain what I did, but I really don't get what I did wrong. I was given a _choice._ Why'd I get punished for picking then? Why....why would you want me to help?" With the killing. Helex had also mentioned that he’d picked _wrong_ , but how was it really a choice if he wasn’t aware of all the consequences? Tarn said he’d be punished for looking away, not for failing to participate. The question remained whether he’d have changed his mind, knowing what he did now, but the unfairness of it still rubbed him wrong. 

Vos could feel the medic tensing up again and tried to mitigate the others agitation through the massage. ~Honestly that’s a question better suited for Tarn, but- Much as you might not like it, Ratchet, killing is our job. And it gives us pleasure, and satisfaction. Things that are not easy to come by. So to have one of us offer to share a turn with you? Is a rare honor. One you threw back in Tarn’s face.~

An _honor_ to help them murder- no, _torture_ \- a bot to death?! He knew they were out of their minds, but Primus! How deluded did they have to be think he would understand or even want that? "He never said I would punished for not being involved though. Only if I looked away, which I hadn't," was all he said to that, though. Even if there was no hiding the disgust from his voice as he sneered the last part of the sentence. 

~Again, that’s something you would need to speak to Tarn about. I can’t tell you his thought process on the issue.~ Vos finished with Ratchet’s shoulders, then hopped down off the berth. ~Now come. Let’s go to the canteen and get you some fuel.~ It was obvious by the medic’s scrunched up expression that he was biting back some sort of retort; no doubt he was not pleased by Vos’ evasive answer, but it was the truth. If Ratchet wanted to know why Tarn punished him, he needed to speak with Tarn. 

He offered up a servo to help Ratchet down, but the medic refused him, and scooted off the side of the berth on his own. The pair didn’t linger at the canteen though. Thankfully none of the other DJD members seemed to be around so after he grabbed himself a cube, Ratchet indicated he was ready to go. He didn’t need to sit in the canteen to refuel and Vos was always a busy mech. Even if he didn’t say anything, Ratchet had observed enough to know the other preferred to stay in his lab to work. Vos and Helex were the two introverted members of the group.

Though on the way back, Vos had a stroke of inspiration. He’d promised Ratchet both a wash and energon, but he wondered what would happen if-

“Where are we going?” Two months of isolation wasn’t enough to dull Ratchet’s memory, and he’d spent a lot of processing power memorizing the layout of the ship. “Why are we headed to the medbay?” He amended his question once he recognized the path.

~Oh, we’re not headed to the medbay. I just remembered there’s an important issue Tarn had asked me to deal with earlier that I _completely_ forgot about. I’ll need to leave you in your room until I’m done with it.~ Vos almost cackled gleefully, but managed to reign himself in when the medic reacted _exactly_ the way he had hoped. 

Ratchet stiffened and immediately stopped walking. His room…? The tiny, barely-able-to-fit-a-mech, room? The one that had only a single, naked bulb to light its space? With only the tiny berth in it?

Ratchet’s ventilations picked up. His optics went wide and pale, and his entire frame began to tremble minutely.

~Ratchet?~ Vos asked innocently, feigning concern as he turned towards the suddenly immobile mech. ~Ratchet, are you all right?~ he repeated, and reached out to gently touch the mech.

“I-I-I can’t,” Ratchet gasped, the medic unable to vent properly. He suddenly curled forward, dropping the half-drunk energon cube as his servos coming up to clasp his helm, “I can’t. Too small-” he choked. 

Vos rubbed the medics back and did his best to hum soothingly even though his raspy voice was not best suited for it. ~Ah~ he said in understanding. ~I did not think…small spaces are surely not good for you right now.~ He nodded to himself, as if he’d just reached this conclusion. ~Calm down Ratchet. I won’t force you there. But, I really cannot allow you to come with me.~ He had to reinforce the lie so Ratchet wouldn’t know he’d been purposely tricked. ~Why don’t you tell me who you’d rather I leave you with and I can take you to one of the others~

The panic took several minutes to subside. The shaking slowly but surely eased, as did his respirations. Who did he want to watch him? Well, it wasn’t as if he had many choices. Even after all this time he barely knew Tess or Helex at all. Helex might be all right, the mech seemed quiet enough, but quiet wasn’t what Ratchet needed right now. At least, not the heavy, oppressive sort of silence that Helex gave off. Tesarus he didn’t know anything about so he couldn’t be sure of his safety with him- as safe as he could get with the DJD at least. That left Kaon or Tarn. Neither of whom he wanted to be around. Kaon was a menace who made his dislike of Ratchet quite clear and Tarn was the one who had punished him.

~Ratchet, you need to make a decision~ Vos interrupted his thoughts. ~I must get going and take you somewhere.~

After taking a deep invent Ratchet lifted his helm and said, “Tarn.”


End file.
